The Curse
by trueinspiration
Summary: Erik had escaped the gypsies, but with a curse put upon him. For twenty years, he would spend half of his days in 2 different forms. If somebody could love him, the curse would be broken. EC Summary not that good. Please review! CHAPTER 12 POSTED!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Although I truely love the Phantom of the Opera, I do not own it in any way.

Chapter 1

Erik winced in terrible pain as the cruel whip of the gypsy master; Jacques, hurled it at him continuously in his nasty pleasure. It seemed as if these past few weeks had been years; times of never ending hurt. For actually, it was not long ago that he ran away from his mother, Madeline and her wicked fiancée, to escape a mental institution all planned so they would no longer be bothered with his hideous face. A face so deformed, it petrified all that had seen it.

Unfortunately, a group of gypsies captured him, thinking he was nothing but a small boy they could use for labor, but when they unveiled his mask; they saw him as a devil's child. Although, it was the idea of the terrible leaders of the gypsies, Mystique and her brother, Jacque, to display him in their dark, disturbing circus. From there after, he was mocked and humiliated for only a physical flaw. None of the horrible gypsies or audiences could see through his face to see the genius, beautiful person he was. The boy was saddened, and thought, "Nobody will ever love me".

But now he had planned to escape. Oh yes, he would flee from this horrid place! Every night, as Jacques snoozed thoughtlessly by the rest of the dirty, toothless gypsies, young Erik figured out how to untie all different ropes and knots. He would fly far away from this terrible pain forever.

After hearing the last wicked laughs of this night's audience, a group of young Paris Opera Populaire ballerinas, he slowly undid the rope. The guilt he felt about what he did! He punjabbed Jacque. Then, Erik panicked; what was he going to do? What had he done? Suddenly, a scared yet brave and compassionate ballerina came to him, and ran with him, hurrying, hurrying, and hurrying, to the Opera Populaire, leading him to a hopefully successful escape.

Meanwhile, the gypsies found Jacque and immediately want to find this monster. One burst into the room of Mystique. "Madam', I have som' bad news- the monster is gone", he said. "Ohh! The money I will lose! Find him! Go!" she replied. "Oh, and another thing- he murdered your brother", he told her hastily. "HE what!" She had lost her only brother because of the circus freak, now she wanted to get him; big time. She went crazy, laughing, crying, hating all at the same time.

Finally, the gypsies gave up trying to find him. But despite this, Mystique had refused to give up searching. After traveling for long into the night, she gave up in front of the Opera House from exhaustion and sent a curse into the air to Erik. She dramatically raised her hands into the air.

"For you, a monster; for upon you future nights and days, you will be half your hideous self, and half an animal, a dog! This spell will only be broken if somebody falls in love you, but really, who could ever learn to love you?"

And with those words, she exploded with an evil laugh heard all throughout Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own anything with the Phantom of the Opera **

**Author's notes: Hope you enjoyed the last chapter! I know it was very short, but I promise the rest of the story will be better and have much longer chapters. **

The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon of the Paris Opera Populaire. Inside, there was a peaceful silence, for most of the tired performers and staff were deep inside nightime's slumber. They had no worries, no problems in their innocent dreams… Everyone seemed happy. except one person.

For nobody saw a lonely, sad little girl crying in her bed from another upsetting dream she had. Not long ago was it that she lost her best friend in the whole world, her father. Now, she felt she had nobody in her innocent heart to look up too. She felt alone, for who would be as truly caring and sweet as her dearest father. She thought back to her last moments with her father….

_The older Gustave Daee' lay in his bed, awaiting his endless sleep to come to him. He would miss his daughter, his dearest Christine, so much, and bitterly hated to leave her with nobody to care for her in the world. The frail, thin nurse walked into his dreary room with some more wet cloths for his head. "Nurse, could you please fetch Madame Giry for me?" he asked her. The nurse efficiently nodded and Madame Giry quickly came into the room. _

" _Antoinette, could you do me a huge favor? Please, could you keep my daughter company, in her loneliness? Help her continue to thrive, oh what a talent she could become from her voice! If it would be fine with you?" he told her. "Oh of course, Gustave! I will care for her like another daughter, and love her, and make sure she continues her music, at the Paris Opera!" the Madame replied. The gray, curly haired man began to feel very calm, and kindly asked for the dearest Madame to bring Christine into the room. _

_The gorgeous, chestnut brown, curly haired girl nervously stepped into the room. "Come to me, child" he whispered eerily. Tears slowly began to roll down the girl's pale face. Gustave weakly took her hands and told her his final words. "Christine, do you remember the tale I told you of the Angel of Music?" She nodded. "You must always believe child! For I will send him to you! The Angel of Music will come to you, and you will triumph for the whole world with you voice!" Gustave softly said to the girl. He began to feel very sleepy. "Remember I love you………"_

Christine now started to sob. She buried her teary face into the bed sheets, and talked to herself through her sobs. "I love you too, Papa!… I love you too!"

Meanwhile, a little dog, heard the girl's crying. He quickly skipped into the chorus girls' dormitory and jumped onto the young Christine's bed. To comfort her, he licked her salty face. Suddenly, the gentle licks began to tickle Christine, and she gave out a hearty laugh.

Who was this adorable dog?

The dog was small, and had long, shaggy hair. He was mostly black, except for a small white marking on one side of his face. It looked like a little mask. She giggled with joy. What compassionate, blue eyes!

"Well, well, little pup, I think I have a new pal now!" she told him with a smile. He sat onto Christine's lap, and she began to carefully stroke him with her hands. Then, she picked him up. " I must show you to Meg! She placed the dog on the floor, and approached her friend's bed. She wasn't there.

"She's not there? She must have awoken and gone to the dressing rooms." She told the little dog. She hopped out of the dormitory, and into the slender, long hallway. The small dog followed her out and through the endless hallway.

The halls seemed to go on for miles and miles, and finally the two companions arrived on the dim stage. Suddenly, a gruff, plump stagehand (no other than Joseph Buquet) loomed out from a corner, and came up to Christine, stenching of alcohol. The little girl froze in her tracks, very frightened by him.

Buquet staggered into the red, velvety stage curtain and tangled himself in the curtains. He got up from the floor, and maniacally gave a drunken laugh. "Come over here lil' girl" he blurted out. Christine shook, not moving at all, eyes wide with terror. "I SAID COME HERE!" he screamed again. The two were only a few feet away. Buquet stomped over to her, and was about to grab her wrist, when suddenly the dog growled at Buquet. "Aw, it's a lil' pup! What you gonna do lil' pup?" Buquet grabbed Christine's wrist, and she gave out a frightened cry. Suddenly, an unbelievable pain shot into Buquet's large bottom, as many sharp teeth dug angrily into his skin. Buquet yelped out in extreme pain, released Christine's wrist, and slowly back away from both of them.

"Er, won't bother yer two again… good day" he mumbled frantically and ran away.

"You saved me!" Christine exclaimed happily as she gave the little dog a wet kiss on his head. He barked cheerily, and they continued to search for the young Meg Giry. Finally, they found her in a eggshell painted, plain hallway off the stage's west end.

"Oh Meg! Look at this dog that came up to me! He's so friendly, and he just saved from that awful Joseph Buquet!" Christine said happily. The petite, blond-haired, and fair skinned friend smiled at the sight of the adorable puppy. Christine held up the little dog to Meg, and the dog licked Meg's face.

Through the girls' laughs, Meg asked Christine, "Christine, what's dog's name?" "I don't know,I haven't given him one yet" Christine. The girls thought carefully for a few moments, when finally Christine came up with an idea. "Let's name him Angel!"

An angel this dog was indeed.

Night arrived shortly, and the puppy scurried off from Christine and Meg. Oh, what a lovely day they had indeed playing with the dog. Christine prayed he would return tomorrow, for she had finally found a great companion. It was as if this dog could understand all of her emotions…….

The dog ran into the damp and dark secret passages of the Paris Opera. Very few knew that beneath the Opera, was a lake and a lair and a man with a mask. The dog transformed into this masked man every night, who was none less than Erik. Erik collapsed onto his organ bench and though back into his day. He had met a sweet yet sad young girl who missed her father. He could see clearly she needed a friend. He enjoyed her melodious laugh.

Actually, he would like to have a friend too.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Susan Kay, Gaston Leroux, or any other version whatsoever.

**Yay! I got a review. Pretty, pretty, pretty please read and review!**

_10 years later_

Christine Daae collapsed onto a chair late into the afternoon of this day. She carelessly untied her slightly grayed, pastel pink pointe shoes and threw them onto the floor. Then, she quickly undid her uncomfortably tight bun to let her long, curly brown hair fall upon her shoulders. Today, Madame Giry had purely exhausted the ballerinas of the repertoire to the maximum. It had not been for one thing, one of her favorite days, as it seemed as if La Carlotta's bullying got worse and worse each day. She replayed the diva's words in her head, " Get your head out of the clouds you howling peacock" or "You are nothing but a wailing swallow!" Christine started to cry, it seemed as if she had cried all the time during the last 10 years.

Angel, her faithful dog, went up to her and rubbed up against her. Angel always cheered her up even when she was in the lowest times. She had confided all her secrets and thoughts to him, even though he couldn't even understand what she was saying. Yet, in his expressions, it was like he strangely did comprehend her every word. "It's nothing, Angel" Christine said as she started to slightly smile. "Just me being overly sensitive to La Carlotta's teasing"

Later, her smile faded. "Oh Angel, I should just forget about the Angel of Music! He'll never come to me; I have no voice! Poor father, I have disappointed him so much in these past ten years. I am no prima donna, and I don't deserve an angel of music!" she exclaimed as began to cry again. Christine glanced over to view the dog, and began to cry harder.

Finally, after some time, she controlled herself and started to review the new script for the Populaire's next opera, Hannibal. Softly, she sang with a most gorgeous purity and grace that she barely noticed Angel's (or Erik's should I say) reaction.

This song reminded her bizarrely of her father and his very tragic death. As she continued to vocalize, she put more and more emotion into the song.

"Think of me, Think of me waking, silent and resigned Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, look back on all those times 

_Think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day when I won't think…"_

As she sang the final cadenza, he imagined her on the stage. Oh what a triumph she would have. With proper instruction, she could be the next prima donna of the stage; far better than the atrocious, joke of a singer in the spotlight now, know as La Carlotta.

He thought deeply for a few moments, and final came up with an idea. Perhaps he could be her teacher! It wouldn't hurt anybody if he pretended to be this Angel of Music, only for some time. Christine was a very sweet, caring girl, and it would make her so happy to hear from the "Angel of Music".

"Oh my! I was practicing the wrong part, La Carlotta's! I must have sounded horrible!" Christine gasped. She placed her head into the palms of her hands when suddenly; she heard a beautiful voice fill the room. Could this be the Angel of Music! " Hush, dearest child! Please do not cry, for your Angel of Music has arrived! I would truly enjoy giving you lessons in the night, for you could become greatest of all the opera singers with some guidance!" The young girl fell onto her knees and replied with glee, "Yes, Angel! I shall do anything you command me!"

After some short conversation, the "Angel of Music" arranged to teach her at nine-thirty every night starting tomorrow. In a flash, he gave Christine his good byes, bursting inside that he had brightened her up so much. Christine turned around to see her gentle canine companion's reaction, but realized he disappeared.

As he did every night, the dog scurried down below the damp, dark underground labyrinths of the Paris Opera and transformed into his human form. Finally, after hurrying through many stone, lonely cellars, he reached his home, filled with excitement. With a little ventriloquism, he had not only made Christine cheerier, but he had arranged for them to be even closer. Although, he would have to have her lessons at night, for it was risky to do ventriloquism as a dog. What would she think if the Angel of Music barked?

Erik had never known she yearned for an Angel of Music before. Although, he was unbelievably glad to help her, he began slowly to have second thoughts about the whole plan. He was no angel; he was a horrible monster that everybody was afraid of. Maybe he shouldn't have fooled this caring, naïve girl into believing he was somebody else.

Slowly, he approached his vocal/ organ scores from the many different operas composed. Intently, he searched through each for songs he could use for Christine's vocal training. He wanted to find something that suited her voice just right. The song Christine had sung before came into his mind, and he slowly began to hum the melody to himself. While continuing to eye through the books, he suddenly found a sketch he had drawn of Christine a few weeks ago. She had a long, white, lacy dress on, with a big, red rose tucked neatly in her curly, brown hair. The rose reminded him of Christine, with everlasting youth and beauty. Erik rose up and placed his hands onto the soft, ivory keys of the organ. By ear, he began to play the melody of "Think of Me".

Erik grinned widely as he played, and whispered, "A prima donna at last"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera in any way :-(**

**Omg! I can't believe I got 5 reviews and a favorite! I'm so happy! Please, keeping the reviews going!**

It seemed as if the night was only ten minutes, because in the blink of an eye, the sun rose up as it did every morning. Erik hadn't slept at all, but it didn't matter to him. He was too excited, for today he would be able to see Christine's reaction to the splendid evening before. Quickly, he dashed over to Christine, suprising her when she turned from a long, shiny mirror. Within a few minutes, her face was covered with sloppy, wet licks and she chuckled with glee.

"Angel, where did you go last night? Oh, you missed the Angel of Music by only a few seconds literally! The angel has finally appeared, and I am to see him tonight in the dressing room at nine-thirty!" she exclaimed. As she looked at her face in the mirror, she indirectly glanced at the dog. What funny expressions this dog made, for it looked like he was smirking!

Christine slowly brushed her hair, when suddenly she burst up and ran around the room in a panick. "Oh no, I'm late for ballet rehearsal! Madame Giry is going to kill me!" she yelled, as she threw on her clothes and her pointe shoes. Then, she groaned in anger when she realized she put her pointe shoes on backwards, and she had to untie and tie them all over again.

"Sorry Angel, I have to go. See you later!" she said as she rushed out of the room. Angel hated to leave Christine, but he went down to his lair to prepare for tonight.

The day flew by, and Christine didn't see Angel at all during the rest of the day. She ate dinner quickly, and hurried to her dressing room at eight thirty for prepare for her lesson in an hour. After a few minutes, she got thristy, so she left the room to get some water.

Meanwhile, Erik grabbed the final music scores and violin he was going to use. Cautiously, he looked through Christine's mirror to make sure she wasn't inside the room. Then, he slid the glass slide over and placed the music on her desk. Everything was set.

9:29, 9:30! He started to use his ventroloquism. "Good evening my dear" he said. "Good evening, Angel" Christine replied as she bowed her head. Such a respectful girl, he thought a tad guilty for tricking her. They began the lesson. She sang with such amazing tone, and it seemed as if the hour was only a minute.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi! I'm sorry Chapter 4 was short.. Chapter 4 and this Chapter know were supposed to be together, but I had some trouble with them. Please, please, please review!

_Three Months Later _

Christine had received her nine-thirty lesson as usual. The Angel of Music had told her tonight that she was ready to sing on stage, and be the prima donna of the world. Christine was confused, La Carlotta was the leading soprano of the Paris Opera. "Do not worry my dear, I will take care of that. Just note that your lessons will be canceled tomorrow night" he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Still baffled, Christine nodded. Tomorrow night was the opening of Hannibal! It was true that for the past month the Angel had practiced La Carlotta's part with her, but surely she was nowhere as good as the diva.

The Angel of Music said his good byes and good nights while departing. She gave him back hers in return, and decided to retire for the night. Tomorrow would surely be a tiring yet interesting day, in the morning everyone had a dress rehearsal, and in the night was when the opening was to occur. Christine sighed and placed her left hand under her pillow. Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, the Phantom of the Opera (aka Erik), reviewed his plans for tomorrow. Christine had improved so much in these past few months. Everyday was more refreshing as he heard her voice get closer and closer to crystal clear sound., and now that time had finally arrived! Tomorrow would be an amazing day, oh yes! Tomorrow, his angel would triumph in front of everybody!

Higher up the lair was a small room, surrounded with flowery, tan wallpaper. Inside, the area was pitch black, besides a faint gas lamp lit above what seemed to be a walnut wooden desk. Sitting in the lightened shadows was none the less that Madame Giry, the Opera Populaire's ballet instructor, reading intently a handwritten letter.

_To Madame Giry,_

_For the past three months, I have been vocal tutoring a certain ballerina by the name of Christine Daee. Over this time, she has greatly improved her tone quality, and could be quite the star if ever needed. If, by any way, La Carlotta does not want to perform in your latest opera performance, Hannibal, I highly suggest you put Miss Daee in the role. _

_Thank you for your time, dearest friend…_

_Best Regards,_

_Erik_

Madame Giry was in shock. She had not heard from Erik in nineteen years, when she rescued him from those terrible gypsies. In her heart, she always felt bad for leaving him alone in the cellars underground despite the fact that it would be risky if he was seen. To this day, she left food for him by the trapdoor every night. Sometimes, if she listened very, very carefully as she put her ear to the trapdoor, she heard him play his organ with a great passion. If Erik had coached her practically adopted daughter, she must be very talented.

Late Tomorrow Morning 

The Orchestra played with energy as the chorus sang the opera of Hannibal. Everyone was dressed in their exquisite, skilled costumes, which they were to wear later that day.

Suddenly, the manager waved a signal to stop the rehearsal, and began to speak. "I am sorry to say I will be retiring for reasons for my health" the manager announced as La Carlotta pointed and gave a mocking laugh to Piangi. The manager ignored her obnoxious behavior, and continued to speak. "I am proud to present to you the two new managers of the opera, Usa Firmin and Jean Andre!" Everybody clapped with manners as the manager continued, "And our new patron, the Vicomte De Chagny!" The chorus girls murmured with excitement to eachother as the smiling handsome young blond haired man walked up next to Andre and Firmin.

"Meg!", Christine whispered with a grin. "It's Raoul! When we were little, I used to play with him at the sea! I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Little Lotte.." Happy for Christine, Meg replied, "Oh Christine, he's so handsome!" The Vicomte pulled himself away from the flirtatious Carlotta and stated to everybody how proud he was to sponsor the world- reknown Opera Populaire. Finally, he wished everybody good bye and told them he would see them later at the night's gala. He walked past a bunch of chorus girls and stood over in a corner to watch a bit of the dress rehearsal.

As the ballerinas danced to the Slave Master music, his eyes stopped to observe a chestnut brown haired, beautiful girl. She seemed so familiar to him, and yet he couldn't think of who she was. Perhaps she was in a childhood scrap of his? He left the Opera to go and look in his new office.

Twelve noon shortly arrived, and the stars were given an hour lunch break. When she arrived in her dressing room, she picked up her adorable little dog with joy. "Angel? Guess who is the new opera patron? It's Raoul! My best friend before my father died! Oh, I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts, he grew up to be so nice and handsome!" she told him. Strangely, the dog's temperament began to change drastically, as he demanded to be put back on the ground. Christine sat at a chair to eat, when suddenly, she caught Angel chewing rapidly on the desk leg!

Christine flew up from her chair and eventually pulled him off the damaging desk leg. Gently, she stroked his fur and said to him, "I'm sorry I upset, Angel. Please forgive me!"

Finally, she placed him back onto the floor, and the little dog left the room, brooding.

"What a bizarre little dog he is sometimes" she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Raoul continued to search through all of his childhood photo albums. Suddenly, he found a picture of him and a brown, curly haired little girl smiling with a wet red scarf. His memory started to reveal something, a sea, a rescued scarf, Little Lotte…. It was Christine Daee!

* * *

Erik scurried to the deserted stage and thought to himself. "Who is this Vicomte!" Maybe he overreacted to her description of this Raoul by damaging her desk leg, but still, she was falling in love with somebody else! He decided to shrug the issue off for now, for he had a more important duty to fulfill right now.

Pulling as hard as he could with his teeth, he opened the costume supplies closet to grab three different bottles of clothing dye, red, lime green, orange and blue in his mouth. Quickly, he hurried to La Carlotta's Think of Me dress. Then, with all of his might, he squirted all of the different colored dyes onto the costume turning it into a tye-dye mess. Oh how La Carlotta would be furious! He placed the bottles back into the closet, with his plan done.

* * *

Lunch break finished, and everyone was back at rehearsal. "Think of Me" was the next act, which was La Carlotta's solo. Suddenly, they all gasped when they heard the diva's scream echo through the large auditiorium. She ran onto the stage to reveal her costume, dyed with red, purple, lime green, and blue on the once all white, satin cloth. "WHO DID THIS!" she yelled. Then, a brave soul began to burst out laughing. Next another did, and eventually, almost everybody except Monseir Reyer and the new managers were laughing. "I AM LEAVING!" the diva burst out, heading for the door. The frantic, stressed out managers pleaded, "Please bella diva! We can make a better, grander gown in no time, right before the performance! Don't leave!" Although they were too late, for her, Piangi (the leading tenor), and a few other performers had fled out the door in a huff.

"Great Andre, our leading soprano, our star is gone!" Firmin exclaimed. "Isn't there an.. understudy?" Andre suggested to Monseir Reyer. "Are you kidding? There IS no understudy for La Carlotta" Monseir Reyer replied. "Andre, we shall have to refund a full house!" "Christine Daee could sing it!" Madame Giry said, remembering Erik's letter. " A chorus girl? Don't be silly." Firmin responded. "She has been taking lessons from a great teacher" Madame Giry added in, interrupting Firmin and his negativities. "Who?" Andre asked Christine. The Angel of Music didn't have a name! "I don't know his name, Monseir." Christine replied nervously. Monseir Reyer decided to try, and instructed her to sing from the beginning of the aria.

_Think of me…._

_Think of me fondly, when we've said good bye……_

The performers were in shock! They had never heard such a beautiful ingénue in their entire opera careers. Mesmerized, they walked closer to listen more carefully to Christine's voice.

Remember me, once in a while 

_Please promise me you'll try_

_When you find, that once again you lone_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_Spare a thought for me_

The managers had discovered much more than an understudy for the gala tonight, they had found an unbelievably talented new singer.

They had found a new prima donna.

A star.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera in any way **

Yay! 9 reviews! Thanks a bunch to all of you readers who take the time to sit and read and even comment back as I update each chapter.

**Oh, and in this chapter, you'll start to see Erik's true colors (especially as a dog) in personality and actions. Yeah, with Raoul coming into the picture and issues with folks like Carlotta, Andre, and Firmin, you'll start to see that he's really not that nice little lapdog he seems to be from the last 5 chapters. Enjoy, and R&R!**

_2 hours before Hannibal_

Carlotta sat jittery in her luxurious armchair as she glanced around her room with suspicion. Was she going mental? Was she losing her mind? All these different thoughts started to come into her mind as she recalled all of the bizarre happenings that occurred today….

Expecting the new managers to come to her dressing room door, pleading and begging for her to return, she idled the spare time away by brushing her hair while looking at her beautiful self in the mirror. Soon, she heard knocking on her door, and smirked as she arose from her seat. She put on a fake sad face, and opened her door. As she was about to speak, she discovered nobody was there. Disappointed, she closed the door. Next, a voice taunted her from every angel. "Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal way of strutting around the stage." the voice teased as Carlotta became a bit intimidated, but tried to shrug the voice off by pretending she did not hear it.

Again, she started to brush her hair. Then, as she glanced to the right side of the mirror, she saw an almost all black haired (except for a little white around the eye) dog snarling angrily at her. Carlotta turned around to find nothing of the sort behind or surrounding her. To reassure herself, she sighed and continued on to brush her hair. Next, she heard another series of knocks banging on her door. A bit annoyed now, she arose as before to answer it to find once again, nobody was there. Carlotta groaned, and slammed the door shut. Before she walked back to her chair, the voice came back again. "Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal way of strutting around the stage!" the voice taunted as Carlotta searched the room frantically. "_It's nothing!" _she assured herself, as she resumed her brushing.

Carlotta reminded herself to remain calm, as she desperately tried to ignore the same dog snarling at her in the mirror. Three more knocks came at the door, causing Carlotta to jump, and almost fall out of her chair. Shaking, she opened the door to find nobody there! "Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal way of strutting around the stage!" the voice teased, returning to haunt the unstable Carlotta once more.

Carlotta was scared out of her wits. Insanely, she started to scream at the top of her lungs as she sprinted over to her tarnished, wooden desk. Roughly, she threw everything out of it, searching and searching and searching until she found what she was looking for.

Hurrying, she ripped apart the tissue around the item to finally reveal a frighteningly pale porcelain doll the diva had received from her aunt in Spain three years ago for her birthday. Carlotta lifted the doll up with her left hand, and she shielded her face with her other hand and screamed, "I always knew this doll was possessed! Evil spirits, take her! Please, forgive me and don't hurt me!" Suddenly, the prima donna's left hand became so sweaty that she dropped the doll on the floor, shattering it to many little pieces. "Nooo!" Carlotta yelled out, as she turned around to get her puppy. Suddenly, she gasped as she realized her puppy was bright pink!

"Ahhhhhh!" Carlotta screamed as she ran to get somebody for help. A few moments later, Carlotta returned with her maid, Gerturelle, to show the bright pink dog. "Andtherewerevoicesandknocksandvoodoodollsandspirits" Carlotta mumbled crazily to the confused maid, as she pulled angrily at her own red hair. Suddenly, the maid frowned, as she picked up a letter from Carlotta's desk. "I hate to make accusations, Senora, but it was you who dyed your puppy's fur to begin with" the maid replied, as she handed the letter to Carlotta to read. The letter said:

_To Carlotta Guidicelli:_

_Here is the bright pink animal fur dye you requested for your pooch. Best of luck using it!_

_Sincerely,_

_Veterinarian Pierre de Smithe'_

Then, the maid handed Carlotta a pair of gloves, stained with pink dye, and embroidered with elegant script letters reading: Carlotta Guidicelli. Carlotta couldn't believe this! Had she herself really dyed her pooch pink? "I'm sorry to bother you, Gerturelle. Could you please just bring me my dinner?" Carlotta responded. The maid gave a nod and left the room. "That woman is such a psycho…" Gerturelle muttered under her breath.

Now, Carlotta was quietly finishing her supper of chocolate and bread. Finally, she finished, and walked outside of her room with a few coins. She saw another maid, and gestured for her to come over. "I want you to watch the performance of Hannibal tonight, and report back to me immediately, got that?" she commanded, as the maid sheepishly agreed. Now that her work was finished, she strolled very slowly down the hallway to her dressing room.

Meanwhile, the audience of the night was starting to arrive in their fancy, elaborate carriages. As they climbed up the grand, marble Paris Opera staircase, which let to the velvety, gold influenced auditorium of course, the crowd gossiped rapidly back and forth to one another. "The new managers and patron will be attending tonight, I heard the patron is richer than the previous one!" one woman said. "I heard that La Carlotta refused to perform tonight!" another whispered. The dukes greeted the countesses, all dressed in gowns of extreme finery, and filled with the suspense of this night. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, as the audience gasped with delight. Hannibal was about to begin.

_2 minutes before "Think of Me", Christine's solo scene of Hannibal_

Christine felt so gorgeous in her glowing, glittery costume. The costume designers had used an older, plainer gown from another opera years ago to create this dress. It seemed to be perfect, fitting her every curve. Nervously, Christine swallowed the lump in her throat, for the orchestrations were hinting the arrival of her scene in a matter of seconds. Then, a stagehand gave her the cue to go onto the stage, and Christine started to walk, as Meg gave her a thumb up and Madame Giry mouthing, "You can do it"

She stood in the center of the stage, awaiting the red, velvety curtain to open. In a matter of a few moments, she was revealed to the audience. If you listened carefully, you could her the soft, soft whispers. Who is this new singer? Was she the new prima donna of the Paris Opera?

The beginning of aria had announced its arrival, as the gently flowing piano introduction played through the auditorium.

"_Well, here it is, Angel" she whispered under her breath, as she breathed in preparation for the first note of the song._

_Think of me, Think of me fondly _

_When we've said good-bye_

_Imagine me, once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

The audience started to smile in amazement. They had never heard such a pure, angelic voice in all of their lifetime. They anticipated something great from this new voice, as they stared at the stage with wide eyes.

_When you find, that once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find, a moment_

_Spare a though for me_

Christine smiled wider, as the audience became even more dazzled by her performance. Oh, how she hoped her angel was proud of her!

Meanwhile, Erik listened intently from his underground lair in a perfect spot right under the orchestra. His angel was doing so well, for she would definitely become the prima donna after this performance that her father, and he himself had always believed she had the potential for. As Christine sung more, he could tell she was putting more and more emotion into her performance, which made her sing even closer to how an angel from heaven would. Needing and wanting more, he straightened up and put his ear close to the ceiling.

_We never said, our love was evergreen_

_Or as unchanging as the sea_

_But if you can still remember_

_Stop and Think of Me_

Christine felt so many presences as she sang more into the aria. She felt the present of the audience, listening to her voice with surprisingly fascinating expressions. She felt the presence of her Angel, watching over her from the heavens. Finally, she felt the presence of her father, in her memory, saying to her right before his death, "_You will triumph with you voice for the whole world!"_

This made her start to cry, putting more and more emotion into the song.

Erik saw she was crying as she sang, by the way the stage was vibrating softly. "The angel sees, the angel knows," he said to himself. Suddenly, he started to smirk, remembering how he tormented that Carlotta woman. With a little ventriloquism and illusions, he made that woman think see was crazy (which reassured him that she would not return before the performance to take the lead again). Although, it was pretty funny watching her stomp and yell about some nonsense with a doll she had. Perhaps, she secretly was a little insane, out of the spotlight.

Think of all the things we've shared and seem Don't think about the way things might have been Think of me, think of me waking 

_Silent and resigned,_

_Imagine me, trying to hard to put you from my mind_

Raoul De Chagny stared astonished and amazed that this beautiful prima donna was nonetheless than his best childhood friend, Christine Daae. Oh, what happy days they had together, playing on the shores of Trestraou! Of course, he could never forget the one-day he rescued her little scarf from the sea.

_It was hot, sunny summer day, and the Vicomte, none less that Raoul, made his governess take a long walk. He was on a vacation to visit his aunt, and found himself drawn to a sweet, brown, curly haired little girl who sang each morning on the beach with her violinist father. Over the past two weeks, the two children became close playmates, meeting each other everyday to beg from house to house looking for a story, or something else of the sort. _

_On this particular day though, the two decided to take a stroll along the shore. Suddenly, an unexpectant breeze blew over, capturing Christine's red scarf and releasing it into the sea. Christine gave out a cry, but released it was too late to retrieve it. Disappointed, for that scarf was her favorite of them all, she signed and said, "Oh well" Soon though, she realized Raoul was not besides her, but running as fast as he could into the sea to retrieve her scarf. In a few moments, Raoul returned, soaked to the bone with the scarf in his small hands. Laughing, unlike the governess who was quite upset, the delighted, happy little girl gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek, and thanked him for rescuing her scarf._

"Little Lotte, you have grown up to be such an angel!" the young fellow thought to himself, absorbed in his trance of Christine.

Recall those days 

_Look back on all those times_

_Think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day when_

_I won't think of you_

Overcome by her presence and performance, Raoul De Chagny awkwardly applauded too early, causing some people to look up at him strangely. To calm down, he went outside of his box to get some fresh air in the entrance. Was this really Christine? It seemed so long ago that they were just innocent little children. She may not remember him, but he remembered her.

Erik gave a silent curse to that new patron, Christine's childhood "sweetheart", Raoul De Chagny. That boy was so quirky and goofy, what could she possibly see in that lad? He looked also like he had an infatuation with… interesting clothing, seeing before the performance that he had come in with a green, ruffled necktie. Erik had to show Christine his home, his world beneath the opera where night prevailed all day long. His angel…

Outside the opera, a large, fancy carriage stood in front of the outside entrance. Inside, was nonetheless than the spoiled, conceited lead soprano of the opera, Carlotta Guidicelli, along with the lead tenor, Piangi. "I'm not going to let a few ridiculous chorus boys scare me so much as to not leave my room!" she had exclaimed to Piangi before, as they went inside and rode around to the front. "Although we must be back soon, for I have somebody I am expecting after the performance" she reminded him, referring to the spy she sent to nosy about at tonight's Hannibal performance. Little did the diva know, that a new prima donna was stunning the crowd inside, the audience not caring where Carlotta was or when she was returning, if ever.

_Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade _

_They have their seasons, so do we_

_But please promise that sometimes_

_You will think…_

"This is for you,father!" she thought, as she poured her heart into the final cadenza. Finally, at the end, she sang the best final note she could for all everyone, alive and deceased to hear.

_Of me! _

The song finished with a mighty end, and suddenly the audience went wild. Some people were sobbing; heart struck by her every note. Others were filled with glee, applauding as loud as they could, until their hands were bright red. Christine turned to the right of the stage to see Meg and the other ballerinas excitedly and happily applauding her, with bright grins on their faces. Even the stagehands were yelling from the rafters, "Brava! Brava!" A wide grin spread across Christine's face.

Meanwhile, Carlotta stopped talking outside to listen. She heard something from inside the Opera House… it was applause! Shocked that the performance was such a success without her, she fainted onto the unfortunate Piangi's chest.

Erik was very, very proud of Christine. What a triumph she had on the stage! Quickly, so he could remain unseen by any suspicious people, he dashed through the dark, silent rafters, wet and damp from the occasionally overflowing lake. Taking a final look around, he unslid the mirror, and stepped into Christine's dressing room. On her desk, he left her a single red rose; carefully tied with a thick, black ribbon. "A present from the angel" was what he called it.

"Brava, Brava, Bravisima!" he recited smoothly, causing the new singer, or should we say prima donna, to look up to the ceiling of her father's chapel as she prayed, hearing her angel's voice from many rooms away.

Everyone rejoiced, for there was a new Margarita in Paris now.

**Whew! I think this was my longest chapter ever, lol! Please, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Although I truly love the Phantom of the Opera, I do not own it in any way.

**I can't believe I have 18 reviews total now! I want to give a special thanks to all the people who take the time to read and even review my story, especially considering it's my first phanfic ever. **

**I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter, and pretty please review! **

"_Brava, Brava, Bravisima_…"

Christine heard her Angel's voice all around her as she lit a candle in remembrance of her dearest father. It was amazing in a way how she heard her Angel's voice in so many different places, anywhere and anytime. The Angel seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, which completely placed her in awe.

Upstairs, an exquisite gala was going on. Both opera viewers and performers were enthusiastically chatting away about the great success of Hannibal. Christine decided not to take part though in the festivities, because the chatting almost always turned into drinking and smoking, neither of which she thought was good in the least way.

Slowly, Christine went onto her knees and said another prayer to her father, "I hope I made you proud!" A small tear ran down the young girl's cheek. She was about to begin to cry more, but she stopped as she heard a comforting and familiar voice, the voice of her Angel of Music. "Child, do not shed tears, for you have triumphed for the world today! Not one member of tonight's audience had a dry face, for all were streaked with tears, of joy and inspiration", Erik said, as he heard light footsteps trotting to the chapel door, which was nonetheless than Little Giry. "I must bid farewell, my angel. I shall see you tomorrow evening?" Erik asked. Christine nodded immediately, and he began to depart from the tunnel behind the chapel wall. After walking a few footsteps though, Erik could not resist the urge to go and listen to Christine chat with Little Giry. It seemed that he wanted, no, needed to hear his angel's voice again. He leaned his weight against the chapel wall, and listened…

"Christine, where in the world have you been hiding? You were perfect! Who's your new tutor?" Meg questioned her warmly, as Christine smiled. "Meg? Remember when your mother brought me here to live when I was seven?"

"Yes!"

"When I used to come down here to light a candle for my father, I always heard this voice, and when I slept at night he was always there…"

As Erik continued to eavesdrop on the interesting conversation, he remembered a time when Christine was eight….

_Erik wandered up through the dark corridors of the Opera Populaire. It was almost a year ago since he met little Christine (in his dog form) in her room. He felt very sorry for her, she was devastated about her father's death, and as her dearest friend, he wanted to truly comfort and help her. Ever since he had met her, he seemed to hear her voice everywhere. Now though, he was coming upstairs from his underground labyrinth to see why she was stirring in her sleep. _

_Silently, he opened the door of the young chorus girls' dormitory and approached Christine's bedside. "Father! Father! Please don't go! Come back!" she frantically said out loud as she tossed and turned beneath her sheets, sweating with panic. "The poor, sweet innocent girl" he thought to himself, as he witnessed her having an obviously disturbing nightmare. Gently, he whispered to her, "Do not cry, dear girl, for you must know your father loves you very much…" Slowly, he soothed the girl, and she slept calmly again for the rest of night. She was so beautiful as she slept! Knowing he must go though, he softly left the room and slipped back through the damp tunnels to return underground to his dark, cold lair._

Erik recalled the many nightmares she had over the past 10 years. The poor girl was very traumatized; he just hoped he helped her at least a tiny bit.

"You see, as my father laid dying, he promised me I would be protected by an angel, an Angel of Music" Christine continued, as Meg listened intently. Finally, Christine broke into song, as she began to tell her confused friend the tale of the Angel of Music.

_Father once spoke of an angel_

_I'd used to dream he'd appear,_

_Now as I sing I can sense him_

_And I Know He's Here_

Now, Christine stood up abruptly, looking around the chapel in awe. Meg was very puzzled.

_Here in this room he calls me softly_

_Somewhere inside hiding_

_Somehow I know he's always with me _

_He- the unseen genius!_

Meg took her best friend's hand, and began to lead her out of the chapel. Was Christine hallucinating, perhaps imaging things? "Christine must be tired, she probably needs rest," Meg thought as the two girls strolled in the opera corridors.

_Christine you must have been dreaming,_

_Stories like this can't come true!_

_Christine, you're talking in riddles,_

_And it's not like you!_

In her strange trance-like state, Christine suddenly sang her thoughts aloud, deeply perplexing Meg more and more by the minute.

_Angel of Music, guide and guardian_

_Grant to me your glory!_

"Who was this person Christine was talking about?" Meg thought to herself.

_Angel of Music, hide no longer!_

_Secret and strange angel!_

"He's with me in the night." Christine whispered. As Meg held Christine's hands, she realized they were freezing! Could Christine have a fever? "Your hands are cold!"

"All around me…"

"Christine your face, it's white!"

"It frightens me."

Meg didn't want her friend to be scared. "Don't be frightened" Meg reassured her, as Meg picked up their walking pace. After some moments, Meg left Christine by her dressing room, and pleaded her to sit down for a bit. With a farewell, Meg trotted away through the corridors.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry unlocked Christine's dressing room door so the maids could place the many flowers she had received from the ecstatic audience members. Suddenly, Madame Giry gasped, as she saw a single red rose tied with a thick, black ribbon placed on Christine's desk. "It's from him… it must be from Erik," she thought to herself, a bit startled. Beginning to lose herself in distant memories, she recalled a deep, unknown story that occurred a mere nineteen years ago…

_Running as fast as she could in her small, satin ballet slippers, she sprinted down to the chapel under the Opera, where she told this poor, unfortunate boy to wait for her. Catching her breath, she slowed down, and finally found him in the corridors. She knew she couldn't waste time, for gypsies were cruel, unfeeling people who probably wanted him dead now. Without saying a word, she took the confused boy's hand and continued to run lower and lower into the Opera's labyrinths. Finally, after about twenty minutes, she found a place for him where she assured herself he would be safe. It was definitely not the most comfortable, for the spot was very dark and wet because it was near the underground lake. Actually, this area was almost like a cave. She would have to bring him some blankets and candles to make his small home more comfortable. _

"_I think you should be safe here," she told the boy, whom she could tell was very overwhelmed from the sudden events of the night. "Why? Why did you help a hideous monster like me to escape my deserved fate" Erik said to her. "First of all, you are not a monster, but a human just like all of us are, and nobody deserves such a fate of pain and mockery for being innocent, no matter what type of physical flaws", she replied. "Now, please stay put, as I go back up to the Opera for some linens for you" Gently, she stood up and released his trembling hands, tightly grasping hers. "Don't worry, everything will be fine…"_

Madame Giry suddenly was brought back to reality as she observed Christine staring at all of the flowers in amazement. Treating the rose as if it were a golden brick, she carefully handed Christine the special gift. "You did very well, my dear… he is pleased with you" Madame Giry said to Christine, as she left her alone in her dressing room, delicately sliding the black ribbon through her fingers.

Meanwhile, Raoul De Chagny practically ran to Christine's dressing room with the bouquet of flowers he had for her in his hands. She had been wonderful! He was just about to knock on her door when suddenly Andre and Firmin pulled him away. "Ah, Vicomte, it appears we've made quite a discovery with Miss Daee. Perhaps we could present her to you?" they asked him, a bit curious to why he had such a large number of flowers in his hand. "Excuse me please, gentlemen, but I would prefer to make this visit unaccompanied" he replied, hasty to see his childhood sweetheart. Next, Raoul left the managers open mouthed, confused by the Vicomte's behavior, but shrugging it off. "Hmm, perhaps they've met before." Firmin said to Andre, who nodded his head.

Raoul knocked on her door. Although he knew deep inside this was not very gentlemanly, he swung her door open, so excited and happy to see her. As he stepped inside of the room, he glanced across the room to see her sitting gracefully in her glittery, white costume by her mirror on a pedestal, gazing at a red rose tied with a black ribbon. "She looks so gorgeous!" he thought to himself, trying to keep himself from appearing like a fool in front of her.

Realizing somebody was present in the room, Christine turned around and smiled. It was Raoul! Swallowing a lump in his throat, he nervously approached her recited the playful nickname he had given her when they were younger, "Little Lotte…." He went down on his knees and took her hands in his, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Christine's smile grew wider. Suddenly not knowing what to say, being amazed by her, he continued to recite the childhood story they had shared together, "Let her mind wander…"

Christine couldn't believe he had remembered her from so many years ago. In her excitement and shock, she whispered, "Raoul" Her smile grew wider as he continued to tell their favorite childhood tale. "Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes, or of riddles or of frocks, or of chocolates…" he narrated, and stopped because he sadly had forgotten the rest. Then, Christine laughed, causing him to join in, as they warmly embraced. It was her turn to continue the story, "No, what I love best Lotte said, Is when I'm asleep in my bed and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head". Christine turned around to face Raoul directly as she remembered the picnics they had together in her attic, as her father played the violin for them. "Little Lotte, I'm so glad to see you again!" he exclaimed, lost for words. "I probably sound such so ridiculous to her" he thought to himself, starting to sweat. Why was he getting so jittery by her? Christine became eager to tell Raoul about the Angel of Music.

"Raoul, before my father died, he promised me I'd be visited by an Angel of Music, and I have been!" she cried out. It didn't matter to him what she said, true or not true, every word she spoke was meaningful to him. "That's amazing!" he replied. There was a moment of silence, and suddenly his knees began to hurt on the hard floor. He stood up, still holding her hands in his. "Little Lotte, it's been so long since I've seen you, and I was wondering, would you like to join me for supper tonight?" he asked her, hoping she would say yes.

Oh how she would love to! Although in a few moments she realized that she couldn't, for her Angel of Music was very strict, and wouldn't like it if she were out so late. She gazed into his pleading eyes, she felt so terrible for saying no. "I would love to, Raoul, but I'm sort of tired from the performance tonight. Actually, I was just about to retire for the night. I'm really, really sorry" she told him.

He was disappointed, but he respected his beautiful angel. She had triumphed so greatly tonight, and perhaps it was better that she rested. "It's okay, Little Lotte. You must rest, for you did greatly tonight!" he replied. He slowly stood up, not wanting to leave the warmth of her hands, or stop inhaling the sweet fragrance that filled her dressing room. Lightly, he pulled his hands away from their entwined fingers, pressing a soft kiss once more to her soft, smooth hand. "I hope you have a wonderful evening, Little Lotte" he greeted to her meaningfully. "Good night, Raoul" she replied and waved, as he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Christine started to change behind her dressing wall into her nightgown. As she hummed "Angel of Music" to herself, Erik thought to himself from behind her dressing room wall. Raoul De Chagny definitely had feelings for her! How dare he try to take her away from him!

After a few moments of very intense thinking, Erik decided it was time. For tonight, he would bring his angel down between the opera to his world, his night, his home. Yes, for he would share with her his passion, the magic of

The Music of the Night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera :-(**

Thank you so much for the reviews, I love reading them so much, and every one makes me want to write more and more!

**I'm really, really sorry this chapter had taken so long to get updated, I went over to my friend's house two states away, and left the notebook I've been using to plan and write every chapter of this story at her house (including the plots and stuff for Chapter 8)**

**So, enjoy and remember, please please review!**

The time approached sooner and sooner. Erik was carefully making his final preparations, for this would be a very special night indeed. A bit nervous yet excited at the same time, he stood in the shadows, waiting jittery for just the right moment.

Finally, the grand clock in the Opera Populaire lobby struck twelve midnight, its loud, long tone ringing through every hallway for everyone to hear. With a yawn, Andre grabbed his cloak from the manager office, along with Firmin, and stumbled out the large, gold-rimmed entrance doors. Drunk, Andre laughed as his hand shook with the key. Firmin sighed, pulling the key out of his business partner's hand, and locked the doors. With a good-bye, they parted to go to their carriages around the corner.

Erik smoothly slipped down the backstage corridors to arrive at Christine's dressing room door. He wore black leather gloves, along with long, black pants and a black suit jacket. Slyly, he slipped a long, shiny skeleton key into the keyhole of her door and locked it with an amazing silence. Almost ready to fulfill his plan, he left with a smirk, disappearing once again into the hallways.

Meanwhile, Madame Giry leaned back against the corner wall to the right of Christine's dressing room. A feeling of guilt spread upon her for spying on Christine, Raoul, and Erik for almost the entire night's gala and on. Although, she HAD to see, needed to visually see him again. Dramatically, she put a hand to her forehead, for who could ever forget that night nineteen years ago………..

_After a short timeframe, Antoinette arrived once again to the dark underground tunnel where who nonetheless than Erik was. He sat with a scared expression, leaning against the cold, damp rock walls and hugging his knees close to his chest. Slowly, he stood up and approached the brave young ballerina. _

" _I brought you some blankets and pillows to make it through the night, along with some dried fruit, you must be starving!" she said to him, attempting to try to lighter the strange and uncomfortable mood in the air. "T-tthanks" he mumbled out, suddenly seeming a bit shocked. "What is it?" Antoinette Giry inquired, sensing this sudden mood change. "I'm sorry, it's just nobody's ever cared if I was hungry at all before, or even comfortable actually. I can't believe somebody actually troubled themselves to help.." he paused for a moment, looking very fragile. "Me!" he exclaimed, and began to sob, placing his cloth-covered head into his hands. A bit unsure what to do, Antoinette gazed down upon the boy in front of her. A needle seemed to stab at her heart, and she began to feel extremely sorry for him. How could somebody treat him so cruelly because of a physical flaw? How could the world be so unkind?_

_Slowly, she walked over to the poor, unfortunate boy and sat down next to him. Then, to attempt to comfort him, she wrapped her arms around him affectionately. Absorbed in shock, happiness, and sorrow, the young boy placed his head on her shoulder, eventually calming his sobs to sniffles. Gently, she began to rock back and forth, when after a while, she realized his tears had soaked through the cloth covering his face._

"_My name is Antoinette, what's yours?" she asked him softly. Shakily, he replied, "Erik". _

"_It's a pleasure to meet you Erik," she answered with a small smile._

Exhausted and a bit embarrassed, Madame Giry slipped off of her spot on the wall, and left to go to her room, deep in thought.

After only a few moments, the few lights on in the Opera began to go out, as if creepily on queue. The candles lit on the edge of the auditorium's stage flicked out, one by one, as many others throughout the opera did too.

Christine during this time came out from behind her dressing wall, in her long, lacey white nightgown. Ready to retire for the night, she began to approach her door when suddenly a strange breeze blew the candles in her room out, turning the atmosphere to be completely darkened. There was a very eerie silence in her room. A bit frightened, she swiftly turned toward her door and placed her hand on the doorknob when suddenly a robust and familiar voice filled the room.

"Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!"

Oh no! Her angel was mad at her! "Angel, I hear you, speak! I listen… stay by my side, guide me! Angel my soul was weak, forgive me, and enter at last master!"

She was playing so perfectly into his plan. Although, he started to feel a bit guilty for making her become so frantic. Christine, his sweet angel, was so naive at times, such as now. " Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!" his voice projected with power.

"Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory! Angel of Music hide no longer! Come to me strange angel!"

In shock, she glanced into her mirror to see a very mysterious man, wearing all black and a white mask on his face. He had a very soft yet stern facial expression played upon his face. The man was very muscular. His warmth filled the room, seeming to her to be filled with an exotic, unique mist. This was her angel; he was the Phantom of the Opera!

"I am your angel of music! Come to the Angel of Music!"

Suddenly, she became allured and drawn to his melodious, unique voice. She strolled over to the mirror, in a trance like state, hardily knowing who or where she was anymore. Wide eyed and amazed, she approached closer, entirely under his eccentric yet extraordinary spell in which he cast upon her.

" I am your Angel of Music! Come to the Angel of Music!"

The distance between the two now was only the mirror, which magically seemed to disappear. Breathless and astonished, she stared in awe at her angel, as he gently offered his strong, gloved hand to her. Softly yet slightly hesitant, she placed her hand his.

A spark seemed to explode with radiance the moment they touched.

Dazing at her surroundings, she barely knew where she was going. Was she having a fantasy, perhaps a hallucination? Was this real? "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came, that voice which calls to me, and speaks my name, and do I dream again, for now I find, the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!" Her angel held a power over her she could not resist, and with bright eyes she stared at the flame lit, golden gargoyle torches which brought light to the glowing corridor. Then, in her astonishment, she gazed at her phantom, feeling his tight yet soft hand grasping hers.

Meanwhile, Erik was astonished himself. He couldn't believe he was with her, bringing his angel down with him, down to the lair. Every few moments, he glanced behind, protectively holding her small, smooth hand, gazing at her fascinating beauty. For Christine really was an angel, dressed in white for innocence, gorgeous chestnut curled hair flowing down upon her shoulders. Turning around to view his way through the corridors, he smirked. Delicately, he continued to lead her underground floor by floor, down a long, spiral staircase. Proceeding thorough the darkness, he lifted his torch higher. Next, they turned past another corner to a downward, stone-paved damp hallway.

"_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet!"_

Perhaps she really was dreaming! Glancing behind her shoulder to see, his voice once filled her ear, commanding her mind once again.

"_And though you turn from me_

_To glance behind,_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there _

_Inside your mind!"_

Gazing still, she did recognize one thing in this unfamiliar place. In front of her, was Caesar, the horse from La Profeta! As a child, she would visit the Opera barn with Meg, and together they would bring the kind horse sweets and treats. One day though, she stopped visiting because Caesar vanished out of thin air! Rumor said he was stolen by the Phantom, the infamous Phantom of the Opera. Suddenly, she felt two strong hands wrap around her waist and lift her off her feet onto Caesar. They proceeded down a few other wet yet radiant stone hallways. Then, he carefully helped her off Caesar, looking deeply into her eyes for a second with sparkly eyes in reply. He turned abruptly, continuing on to their destination.

In front of them, a lake suddenly came into view, as well as a long, sturdy gondola. The Phantom swept her up in a minute, placing her into the boat. Curiously eyeing the strange unfamiliar world, she lifted her chin slightly to get a full glance. She sat in the boat with her hands folded neatly on her lap, as the Phantom's robust paddling was heard.

"_Those who have seen your face_

_Draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear…"_

"_It's me they hear"_

Now, they began to join together in a duet, singing with a strange, sweet serenading

"_Your/My spirit and you/ my voice_

_In one combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there _

_Inside your/my mind!"_

Suddenly, upon their arrival to the underground labyrinth, large, lit candles held by elaborate gold supports arose from the clear, cold water, making the lair brighter and brighter as they rode closer and closer.

_"In all your fantasies,_

_You've always knew_

_That man and mystery"_

_"Were both in you"_

_"And in this labyrinth, where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your/my mind!"_

Christine shuddered a bit, as it seemed that voices almost echoed there vocalizing, as if a voice inside her mind, "He's there the Phantom of the Opera.."

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera!" she whispered to herself.

Suddenly, Erik wanted to hear her voice, a reassurance this was all real. He yearned desperately for his angel's voice, he NEEDED her voice.

"Sing, my Angel of Music!" he commanded.

Listening to his command immediately, she began to sing her heart out to him, her voice ascending higher and higher as they moved closer to shore.

"Sing, my Angel!"

With the outburst, she sang higher and higher, rising higher than she thought she had ever sang before.

"Sing for me!" he yelled out.

Soaring with an echo through the labyrinth, she continued to vocalize for me.

"Sing!"

She sang on the same high note a few times. Then, she felt one note more she could sing, bursting out of her.

"Sing for me!" he yelled.

An unbelievable high note sounded all around them, leaving her gasping for air, as the gondola was docked. In awe, she stared at his every move…

" She looks so angelic and pure, in that boat" he thought to himself, swiftly moving onto shore. There was no doubt whatsoever she really was angel, glittering and breathless before him. Trying to keep himself under control, he continued on to sing to her.

"_I have brought you,_

_To the seat of sweet music's throne,_

_To this kingdom where all must homage_

_To music"_

He exaggerated his words.

"_Music"_

"_You have come here,_

_For one purpose and one alone_

_Since the moment _

_I first heard you sing_

_I have needed you with me_

_To serve me to sing_

_For my music…_

_My music"_

He smiled smoothly as he gazed once again at his angel, with her big beautiful brown eyes watching him completely. Her chest moved heavily up and down, gasping for breath from the moment.

He was ready, he was ready

To share

The Music of the Night.

**A bit of Leroux &Andrew Lloyd Webber movie/ show in here. I couldn't resist the La Profeta horse from Leroux, I love Caesar! Lol**

**Please, please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I am sooooooo sorry I haven't updated in months! Sadly, I've had terrible writers' block and between school and the whole deal it's crazy! I want to thank all of you for all the review, it really means so much to me (tear drop J )… **

**Enjoy!**

She sat breathless in the long, thin gondola as I watched her with amazement. She was so beautiful, her eyes glittering in the dim candlelight surrounding us. I shook a little, nervous yet anxious to share with her something I've never shared with anyone before, my music of the night. I paced back and forth a bit, with a smile on my face as I sang my song with my heart to her.

_Night time sharpens _

_Heightens each sensation _

_Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination _

_Silently the senses, abandon their defenses_

I was drawn to her delicate form, and approached her in the boat holding my hand out to her. Slowly, she grasped it, and stood up to face me. My grin widened more, and I began to feel even more nervous. " Don't fall apart", I thought to myself, as I sang more to her.

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor _

_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender _

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light_

_And listen to the music of the night!_

I turned around for a moment to suddenly become mortified! Barely invisible behind a candleholder was my chewed up conductor's baton! I can still remember the story to this day….

_Being a dog part time has its pros and cons. The pros, nobody will ever realize that I am nonetheless than the Phantom of the Opera. Although, even by man I am never seen through my clever ways. However, the cons sometimes can be quite a nuisance. Sadly, all canines (including myself) get at times very suddenly urges to gnaw at… a bone. This my friend, is very embarrassing._

_At the time, I had the most terrible desire for one… but could not find anyone around. Frantically I searched my lair for one, but not one was to be found. I scurried back up to the stage, and found nobody to my astonishment. The crew and performer were on a meal break. _

_Finally, I eyed the stage to land on Monsieur Lefvere's conducting baton and score on a music stage. Guilty as I was, I quickly snatched the baton away and dashed down below to chew at my substitute. To this moment I could have sworn I heard Monsieur's voice echoing "Where' s my baton"  
_

_I could have sworn I hide that baton away!_

Quickly and inconspicuously, I moved myself over and kicked it under my organ. Thankfully, she remained in awe and did not notice the strangest of my last action.

I wanted her to listen to my music with more than her ears. I wanted her heart and soul combined to feel the music, consume her inside. Combined, we would create the perfect music, enough to make heaven's bells ring and angels weep. Gently, yet forcefully I continued my song…

_Close you eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams _

_Purge all thoughts of the life you knew before _

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_

After my purest note, she opened her eyes in her trance and gazed into my eyes with deepest feeling. Her live would never be the same after this...

_And you'll live as you've never lived before_

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you _

_Hear it, feel it _

_Secretly possess you _

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind _

_In this darkness which you know you cannot fight _

_The darkness of the music of the night_

Our music was being shared! I wanted to give her an unearthly feeling, beyond this lifetime….. I wanted her mind to think of nothing but melodies and the power of music, all her thoughts to take flight, into this night…

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world _

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before _

_Let your soul take you where you long to be!  
_

_Only then can you belong to me._

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication _

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation _

_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in _

_To the power of the music that I write _

_The power of the music of the night!_

I showed her my life, my music, my world. All what else lie upon this labyrinth so dark into the soil of Paris. I guided her to the model I made of her as the bride I yearned for her to be with me. Suddenly, the power was too much for her, and in shock she fainted into my arms. I carried her to the swan bed I made especially for her and lay her upon it to slumber peacefully. I closed the crimson curtain and watched the beautiful sight of her sleeping.

_You alone can make my song take flight _

_Help me make the music of the night_

I was thoroughly inspired by her more than ever at this moment, and decided to compose more of my Don Juan Triumph. I thought of the notes precisely in my head, started writing down a passionate duet between Don Juan and Aminta. A title emerged into my mind, and with my ink I carefully inscribed at the top of the paper, The Point of No Return. Before long, I couldn't stop composed and my writing took over me.…

The night was alluring yet still in many ways. Tonight, I remained sleepless, as in many of my nights these days, sitting on a wooden chair in my dimly lit room. It was so strange how I couldn't stop thinking about him lately. I turned around to my bureau and placed my first Pointe shoes in my hands, recalling more of the story….

_The boy had a name.. Erik. I really didn't know what to do. Should I leave him now and let him rest after such a traumatic experience? I carefully unwrapped my arms from around him and stood up. " I must go back" I whispered to him, " I shall return tomorrow". Slowly, I stepped away when suddenly a voice stilled my footsteps. "Wait! Don't go… I- I'm scared!"_

_I didn't have the heart to leave this poor boy. I guessed it would be alright if I stayed with him for a few more hours, as long as I returned unnoticed. Gently, I turned around and approached him. "Don't be scared, I'll stay with you" I said to him._

_He didn't seem to want to sleep, so I talked with him a bit._

_"So, Erik…"_

_The name was so natural to say…_

_"Did you have anything you enjoyed doing?"_

_Erik thought for a moment, and suddenly his eyes brightened up for a moment._

_"Music… I play the piano…"_

_I happened to glance around for a moment when suddenly I realized there was an organ at the end of the under labyrinth. " Could you play something for me?", I asked, gesturing to the organ. He nodded in agreement, and I followed him over to the grand, majestic organ._

_The organ possessed a certain something I couldn't describe. Yes, it was covered in a somewhat thick coat of dust, but yet somehow it was alluring. The thin young boy placed his hands above the keys and played a striking note. That one note filled the air and suddenly I desperately hoped he continued to play more. " I wrote this piece when I was younger…" he murmured, as he began to play._

_The music was something I had never heard before in my whole life. The boy was clearly a musical genius, one who could rival the greatest pianists and composers of all time. Every note was crystal clear, entwining in a perfect song…_

Madame hummed the distinct melody to her herself, as she decided to take a midnight journey through the sleeping opera house. Softly, she got up off her chair and closed the door to her room, taking the candlestick with her.

She traveled past the stage, viewing some of the roses still left behind from thrilled admirers of Christine Daae. Her non biological daughter had an unbelievable triumph tonight, one that many would never forget. Next, she traveled backstage to where the dressing rooms were, where strangely she noticed Christine's door was cracked open. "Christine?" she called out softly. Curious to this, Madame entered the darkened room to gasp when she realized the secret passage was opened!

She stepped inside the dark, damp tunnel. She traveled this passage before many times, and was very concerned about why it was opened. Turning a corner in the wet, gray stone place, she saw a most familiar figure in the distance. The thin, blond haired ballerina was shaking nervously, taking unsteady steps. Madame reached her daughter, Meg, and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She grasped her daughter's hand, and lead her out of the passage.

Finally, the two women reached the dormitory of none other than the Opera House ballerinas. Meg scurried off to her bed and began to undress from her performance costume. Madame Giry stood unseen for a few minutes, watching the scene that laid before her. That Joseph Buquet not only had broken the rules again (for men were not allowed to be in the dormitories so late at night) but he was also telling obnoxious stories once again of "The Opera Ghost". "He got a hole for a nose... And you can't see is' face…" he continued, scaring the ballerinas even more.

Suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. "Hold your tongue Joseph Buquet!" she screamed at him, taking his mock Punjab lasso and tightening it in a deadly grip.

Erik finally wrote the last note of his duet. Sighing, he put down his pen for a moment and glanced at his pocket watch. It was almost sunrise! He nervously started to pace around. What would he do? He really didn't want to disturb her, but he had to wake her up and take her back up to the opera. Not only could she never see him in his other form, but the others above who be worried about her whereabouts. This would definitely not be good for her, especially with that boy in the way.

Regretfully, he pulled back the crimson curtain, glancing at her sleeping form, and wound up the music box of the music box monkey. Swiftly, he raced to his organ, pretending to compose more music.

Christine woke up to the sound of the music monkey's melody. In time, the music stopped, and she lifted the velvety curtain around her and walked away from this. Fuzzy memories whirled around her as she recalled each and every one of them, mist, a lake, a boat, candles, and of course a man. She looked to her right to see the man, composing gracefully and attentively at his organ.

Who was this face in the shadows? She wanted to know… she needed to know… Who was this face in the mask? Enchanted by her and her gorgeous voice, the Phantom exhaled heavily and closed his eyes dramatically in her presence. Although, suddenly he felt her prying fingers loosening the mask on his face. In a mental frenzy and shocked reaction, he violently pushed her to the floor and covered his hand to his revealed face.

She didn't now he would get so mad at her! Angrily he jerked around and hissed curses at her, causing drastically rising fear to swell up inside of her. Crying she looked at him, as he continued to speak sudden words of love to her. "Fear can turn to love" he sang. Could it? Not having the time to think about exactly what she saw, she turned around, obtained the mask, and handed it to him.

The Phantom turned around and finally stood up above her. "Come, we must return, those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you". He held out his hand to her, and he swiftly took her back upstairs.

On his way, he saw and heard that disgusting stagehand Buquet talking about "The Opera Ghost" once again. At this moment, he was too concentrated on getting Christine back safely. However under his breath he whispered, "Curse you Joseph Buquet, for one day you will need to keep your hands at the level of your eyes".

And the Phantom hurried off into the distance.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi everyone! Happy Belated Easter! Thank you so much for the reviews, they inspire me to write all the time. Enjoy... 

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, however I wish I did!

**Madame Giry's Point of View:**

Erik. That name could not escape my mind. It followed me in my dreams, in my thoughts, in my everyday life. Slowly, I kept recalling those days so long ago, when my poor, sweet Erik first arrived at the Opera. "Why?" I asked myself. Quietly, while laughing to myself, I glanced down at my very special necklace tucked safely inside of my shirt….

_A bit later that night, Erik fell asleep on the soft, comfortable blanket that I had supplied him with. This boy was so unique. As I watched him slumber, I tried to imagine what a horrible, unjust life he must have had before I rescued him. Inside, I could tell he was a kind, loving person. However, on the outside anyone could tell he was scared and lonely. He appeared to be new to any sort of hospitality or compassion from another. How could one possibly be so cruel to such a gentle young boy?_

_For a brief moment, I left his side to check out what time it was. This night was incredibly risky for me. If I were to be discovered out of bed, the other ballerinas would surely gossip until their tongues fell out. Young girls are warned not to leave their homes late at night. Paris is extremely dangerous, especially for women._

_After jogging up a few flights of underground stairs, a small window came into my viewing. The night was almost over, and by the hazy, lightening color of the sky, I knew that the new morning sun would soon rise in my dear Paris. Sadly, I walked back down the stairs to say a final goodbye to Erik before a new day began._

_A few minutes later, I once more arrived into the cold, damp underground cellar of the Opera to bid my new friend farewell until later. Still, Erik was sleeping, a bit more at ease and perhaps carefree. I stood up above his figure contemplating whether I should wake him up or not. Suddenly however, he began to violent shake all over!_

_I gasped in shock and worry! What was happening to him? I didn't know how to treat any medical injuries or anything, and truly he would be discovered if he went to a doctor. What was I going to do?_

_Slowly, his body was transforming into a smaller, rounder shape. He was slipping out of his human form. His fingers were morphing together and his ears grew pointy and closer together. Small, white hairs crept onto his whole body. The partially disfigured nose he owned hours before shaped into a oval, black figure. Four minutes later, his changed body no longer showed the form of a human being, but… but… of a dog!_

_Truly, I was speechless as I stared at the body before my feet. Perhaps, I just had a daydream or a nightmare, and this whole night was just a figment of my imagination. Nervously, I began to chuckle to myself. Surely in moments I would awake in my warm, cozy in the ballet dormitory, surrounded by giggly chorus girls observing my bizarre state. Somehow, I really wanted to believe that, though deep inside I knew it wasn't the truth._

_Cautiously, I bent down on one knee and tenderly patted his smooth, silky head. Baffled by his surroundings, Erik gradually opened his eyes. He gazed at me hard for a brief moment, and opened his mouth. A soft, calm bark escape from his lips._

_He was more confused then I was. Rapidly, he began to move back and forth, pacing up and down the steep cliffs. This was truly beyond both our imaginations. What would happen now? Would he remain a dog forever? Instantly, I tried to reflect back upon past events that could have made this possible. One distinct thought crossed my mind… certain words I cringed at reflecting upon._

_"For you, a monster; for upon you future nights and days, you will be half your hideous self, and half an animal, a dog! This spell will only be broken if somebody falls in love you, but really, who could ever learn to love you?"_

_The gypsy's horrible laugh tore through my head like a tornado. With tears streaming down my cheeks I ran to Erik and gathered him into my arms. "You're not unloved, my dear."_

Madame Giry glanced outside her room to view the new risen sun of the day. Her body shook a bit from the memory. "Perhaps one day…" she whispered, as she rose up from her chair and left to find Christine.

**Raoul's Point of View:**

I was beginning to get frantic! Where could Christine be! She wasn't with me, and she wasn't at the opera house, and she wasn't outside Paris for any reason that anyone knew. Maybe she had returned a bit later. Quickly, I jumped onto my horse and dashed away.

**Christine's Point of View:**

I was at loss for words. Was last night real? Emotionally, I was in turmoil. I felt inspired by this indescribable spirit that filled my soul. Yet, I felt very scared of this dark angel, this man who lives only on music itself. He had a power that I couldn't resist, a power I was drawn to. What would happen next?

In a few moments, a familiar petite body placed himself into my lap. "Oh Angel", I sighed, as I gently stroked my silent companion's fur.

Ever since Angel saved me from Joseph Buquet when I was younger, we had become best friends. I shared all my secrets with him, knowing my words would never be spoken to another soul by my canine friend. Despite the fact that he was only a small dog though, it seemed as if he could understand every word I said. His eyes showed true kindness, as if he could really hear me.

"Oh Angel, life is so mysterious sometimes. I know nobody would listen to me but you right now, so I'm telling you what happened last night. My Angel of Music appeared to me, as a masked man! I felt drawn to him… his presence was like a magical spell over my body. He sang to me with his pure, angelic voice so beautifully I fainted. The experience was too much for me. Later, I woke up and saw him playing music at his organ. I became a little curious, and unmasked him! He became so angry and violent! I was terrified of him, that side of him was so scary and unheard of…and yet I cried for him. His poor face… it was disturbingly deformed and didn't even look like a face in some spots. I knew the emotions he felt at the moment. He was self conscious and scared."

Christine laughed at the irony of her comment.

"It's hard to believe my Angel of Music of all people would be scared of anything. The Phantom of the Opera seems fearless, having the entire Paris Opera under his fingertips. And yet, he's just a normal man as I am a normal woman. Everybody has insecurities I guess. I just wish I could help him a bit".

Gently, Angel stirred a bit and groaned with pity. Gracefully, he removed himself from my lap. He turned around, and gazed into my eyes with so many serious feelings inside it made me want to weep. Softly, he licked my cheek, and dashed out of the room. I loved that little dog so much.

Reluctantly Christine rose out of her bed to start a new day. Who knew what kind of rumors would be circulating the opera house by know.

**Erik's POV:**

I wanted to cry. I wanted to gather that beautiful girl into my arms and just love her for eternity. Her words were so kind, so sincere to me. How could she not be terribly repulsed by my hideous face? And yet, she still accepted me, she wanted to help me.

I also felt like a monster. How could I hurt Christine like that? Why couldn't I control my anger? She was just simply curious. I acted like a savage beast in that lair.

In a few minutes time, I realized what sort of nasty rumors could be circulating this noisy Opera House. Oh gosh, others could think that she had an affair with that Raoul! Or ever worse, people could be thinking she had an affair with me. Christine was such a good girl, she would never do that sort of thing. Thankfully, I had written a few "notes" to these certain individuals whom this situation mainly concerned. Courtesy of the Phantom of the Opera.

Christine would be the world famous Soprano she was born to be, and nothing would stand in her way, I ensured.

And with that very thought in mind, I ran off into the distance of the Paris Opera House.

Never underestimate the Opera Ghost.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi everybody! Sorry I haven't updated for awhile, the summer's been so busy. Thank you so much for your comments, they really mean so much to me - Enjoy!**

**Christine's Point of View: **

Smoothly I sighed as I glanced out of my window. This day had certainly been a headache for pretty much everybody in the opera house, including myself. Why did life have to be so complicated sometimes? Slowly, I recollected my thoughts and remembered what had happened once I had returned. So many people interrogated me with their many, many questions about where I was last night. A horrid headache began to form inside of me. I had no idea what to tell them. Luckily, Madame Giry came to my rescue and told me to go rest in the dormitories. I had remained there ever since.

Outside of my window, the seasons seemed to be changing ever so rapidly. August was coming to an end, leaving behind the laziness of the summer to welcome the gushing feeling of fall. The leaves on the trees were beginning to show an ever so slight hint of color change. The sun set earlier and the air whirled around with a hint of cold weather to come. Everything around me was changing. The environment, my emotions, my friends, it was all so hard to deal with. I needed to take a break, go somewhere and just let out my inner self.

Once again, I glanced outside of my window to see my dear home Paris. The city of so many stories, places, and people. Somehow I knew it so well yet in other ways I knew I still had many places to explore. A few moments later, I heard familiar tiny feet galloping into the room. I smiled as my dearest canine friend hopped into my lap.

"Angel, do you see the city? It's so pretty isn't it?", I said as I held up his tiny face to the window. His fur seemed so soft today and his body seemed so warm. Very gently, I stroked my hand against his silky, silky fur with affection, much to his liking. As I pet him, I decided to look at his eyes. Much to my suprise, I had never noticed Angel had such a golden color in his eyes. Those eyes reminded of someone... someone whom seemed right under my nose...

Within seconds, a very fun idea came into my mind.

"Angel, do you want to take a walk with me around the city?"

My little friend jumped off of my bed and skipped to the door. I grabbed my light blue shawl off of the door and followed my companion with a unexplainable glee.

**Erik's Point of View:**

Suprising myself, I ventured off with Christine to go and explore Paris. Usually, I never left the Paris Operahouse or my lair. I guess Christine changed that. I couldn't shrug off my mind how gentle her stroking was only minutes before, or how kind her gaze was. I could only dream that she would ever do that to me as a man. I didn't deserve such treatment from her!

Huskily, we scurried several blocks south of the opera. The streets were bustling with livelyhood. Children screamed for their mothers while their parents were admiring the hanging gardens all around them. Each detail of the outsides were fascinating: the engravery on the metal railings, the sculptures molded artistically into the corners of doors and windows. I myself almost got distracted while gazing at my surroundings. Soon, I was snapped back into reality by the opening of a decorative metal door. Christine glanced back to check on me, then continued going on her way.

The sign above the shop read _Les trésors de Javier_. I never heard of this small Parisian store before. Christine seemed very intrigued, and I started to wonder if she had once been familiar with this place. Once I stepped inside, I came to the conclusion that this was an antique shop of the sorts. The dusty, wooden shelves were filled with a variety of items, each telling a different story from their pasts. The rough crimson carpets started to get stuck on my feet, pulling tiny threads into my nails.

"These nails are going to be the end of me one day" I thought angrily, as I kept following Christine with a pout.

Finally, Christine abruptly stopped at the very back corner of the questionable shop and glanced up at an item new to my viewing. Hiding behind a layer of dust and lurking in the shadows was a small box of green velvet. Absorbed by her own thoughts, she carefully gathered it into her hands and flipped up its tiny lid. Inside was one of the most gorgeous pieces of jewelry I had ever seen before.

The box contained a thin golden chain made up of small ovals joining one another to form one. In the middle of the necklace was a pretty little charm of a sea shell. The outside of the sea shell was covered in intricate little patterns of swirls and twists, making me conclude this must have been a mancrafted piece. Christine's fingers delicately pressed the charm's side to seperate the shell into two parts. Inside were two pictures, one of a man and one of a woman. Could these two people be her parents? Even more so, why was such a special necklace collecting dust in an old Parisian antique shop?

Christine took a seat on the floor and placed the box on her left knee. Then, she picked me up off of the floor and placed me on her other knee. Again, she stroked my fur as she picked up the box to show me.

" Hey Angel, see this? These are my parents! On the left side is my mother, Maria. She died when I was only five, but I still remember everything about her... her eyes, her voice.. oh so was so beautiful! I still remember the times long ago when I used to sneak into her room and try on all of her jewelry and put on her makeup. It was my dream even back then to become a famous opera singer, just like she was. Well anyway, this was always my favorite necklace of hers. Something about it always fascinated me.."

Christine glided her finger across the picture and sighed. Then she continued.

"One day, I remember when my mother, father, and I went to the shore in Sweden. We ran and played together in the sand and got eachother soaked in the water. Together, we had joy that could only be shared by a very close father, mother, and daughter. While we walked on the coast as a happy family, I saw a white seashell in the sand. Curiously, I asked my mother and father what caused the shell to be so smooth and shaped so perfectly. My mother told me the ways of the sea determine how smooth or rough the surfaces were. No two shells were alike and each had their different layers and feels. Full of glee, we continued to walk upon the sandy shores and eventually watched the sunset."

A small sigh escaped my lips as I pictured her vivid memory in my mind. It must have been so nice to remember happy times or recall people who loved you. Families were wonderful, a true blessing many do not recognize until it is too late. I wish I had a family to remember. Christine laughed and teasingly rubbed my ears.

"While the sun set, my mother got down on her knees and held my tiny hands into her palms. For a minute, she let go and unclasped something on the back of her neck. In my mother's hands laid the gorgeous seashell necklace I had admired so many times. ' Christine my daughter, I want you to have this special treasure I have in my hands. My mother gave it to me when I was young, and now I think it is your turn to have it. Please, keep it and remember the rough and smooth roads in all of our lives. The shell must stay strong to stay together while the sea carves its path. If the shell is weak, it will break apart, and never be a whole again' Christine's mother whispered to her. Slowly, she placed Christine's hands on her heart. ' Let the shell remind you of your own heart. Never give up and always stay strong, even if you are feeling terrible. We all must stumble on our paths, but if you believe in love and yourself, you will reach a smooth patch. Promise me you'll do that?' I nodded my head softly and my mother place the necklace on my neck. With a mother's care, she embraced me and kissed my hair. Then, our lovely family strolled home."

Erik felt happy and sorry for Christine, as a small tear ran down her cheek. Her family meant so much to her and it pained her all of the time to think about their time together. Still, the same question stayed inside of his mind: Why was this sentimental necklace sitting inside of this ridiculous shop.

" I wish I could have this again. I really wish I didn't have to trade this in for money. Why is my shell always so rough?"

Sorrowfully, she closed the box and placed it onto the highest shelf. Then, she abruptly stood up and walked out of the door.

Night was soon to fall, and I began to get worried. I didn't want to leave her alone in the city, especially at night by herself. I hoped and prayed she would go back to the opera house.

Soon, Christine's brisk walking turned into a run. Steps turned into meters and meters turned into blocks. I wasn't sure if she even had a particular destination or if she had ever gone so far away by herself before. The winds around us swirled with coolen air. Inner conflicts were gushing through my mind, Christine's mind, and even my dear Paris's airs as we all rushed past the sidewalks. The shops appeared as fuzzy blurs and confusing colors playing tricks on us. Finally, we ended up alone, on a desolent street. And before my eyes, the Seine River stared at us.

Dramatically, she clasped her hands to her heart and broke down sobbing. She felt to the floor and covered her face with her hands, squeezing herself into her own little secure ball, inches from the edge of the hard, stone wall.

"Why? Why?" she asked in between cries as she began forming pictures in her head. It was all so much, so many ideas, so many thoughts, so much left to ponder about. A minute later, she began to draw faceless pictures with her pretty fingers on the ground. After much thought, I realized these invisible drawings were pictures of the sea.

The sun in the sky was starting to perform a ritual very much inconvenient right now. Oh how I hated to leave her at a moment she needed comfort most! Quickly, I licked her cheek and scurried away. I would be back to watch her still, protect her, just in my different form. Yet, she would think I had abandoned her, just like everybody else.

"Never will I abandon you, _mon amour_" I thought.

I scurried away in a hurry down far into the streets.

**Raoul's Point of View:**

I was so confused as to what was going on around me. Christine supposedly just "disappeared" last night, and the entire opera house thought it had something to do with me. I felt so terrible because of so many different reasons. Did Christine change her mind about my invite to dinner? Did Christine try to contact me and then get into trouble? I should have stayed there, maybe she really wanted me there to be with her. She was acting a bit strange when I spoke to her. Oh goss, was somebody threatening her!

Christine was such a caring, sweet person, and I know she would never do anything scandelous or be involved in anything unlawful. Now, I was responsible for nasty rumours being spread about her and our involvement to one another. I know I love her. I love her with all of my big, red heart! But does she love me in the same way?

I sighed and mentally pictured her as a child in Sweden. I still remember when I first saw her big, curious eyes so brown and her long, cascading curly hair. Her smile could make anyone's heart melt in an instance. I wanted so badly to make her smile again like that; the way she did carefreely before her family died. Now, she seemed so sad... so sad that I wanted to cry for her...

**Christine's Point of View:**

Angel, my kind dog friend, just left me so abruptly. I thought it was strange for him to just leave so suddenly, he was usually always by my side, but who knows why he left. It was probably me for all I know, who would want to have to deal with such an emotional girl like me with so many issues? I still gave him so much credit for being my friend, lending me a shoulder to cry on. He truly was an angel of his own kind.

Suddenly, night fell, and I gazed out into the calming river. I realized I ran so far away from the opera that I had no idea where I was at the moment. A howling breeze ran through my dress and I stood up, holding myself to get rid of the chill. A song crept into my mind, and softly I began to sing...

**Erik's Point of View:**

As fast as I could, I ran out of my hiding in the darkened alleyway and hid behind one of the Seine's many walls. Christine stood nearby, holding herself as the chilling wind came by. The poor girl is cold, I wish I had something to warm her up.

The silence of the night was haunting. The mood was shattered and broken; darker then it had been for years. The silence was shattered however, when a sad, soft voice of an angel filled my ears...

_" Every night,_

_I dream of shining stars_

_Across the sky._

_And every night,_

_I see you smiles too_

_Remembering what we used to do._

_Every night,_

_I see your mirror look_

_So dear to me._

_And every night,_

_I think of singing times._

_Every night, Every night. "_

Christine glanced up at the moon and the stars. What a night for such a song, so genuine and sad, so eerie and chilling.

_"The sea shines out past the sunrise,_

_The moon flies out onto the sea,_

_And all the creatures have a purpose,_

_A place called home, a family._

_Am I just an old wash up?_

_A wandering fish just left behind._

_Am I just a tarnished piece of seaglass?_

_A seashell lost to never find?"_

Feeling the emotion of the song, she bowed her head down and look far into the river. The river was so creepily peaceful...

_"Every night,_

_The river washes up_

_So far away._

_And every night,_

_The waves grow fonder too_

_Remembering what we used to do._

_Every night,_

_Your touch, your smile, glisten_

_In my mind._

_And every night,_

_Reflective water pierces_

_Through my eyes,_

_Every night, every night."_

Sparkling tears rolled down her cheeks as she sang.

_""The sea shines out past the sunrise,_

_The moon flies out onto the sea,_

_And all the creatures have a purpose,_

_A place called home, a family._

_Am I just an old wash up?_

_A wandering fish just left behind._

_Am I just a tarnished piece of seaglass?_

_A seashell lost to never find?"_

Bidding farewell, she kissed her hand and threw it into the air.

_" A seashell lost to never find?"_

An ivory tear rolled down my cheek as she ended her heartfelt song. Why did this girl have to experience so much pain alone? Never alone, Christine, you're never alone. Affectionately, I blew her a kiss, wishing so badly to end her discomfort.

Christine turned away from the Seine's viewing. Cautiously, she began to walk away, venturing once again into the heartless streets of Paris to find her way back to the Opera. As always, I followed.

**Christine's Point of View:**

As I made my way back into the Parisian streets, I began to get very frightened. Paris looked like a whole different city in the night. Oh goss, how would I get back home? I was so foolish to take this walk, getting lost in the eerie hours of the night. I continued walking up the streets, gradually quickening my pace, while surrounding me were sickening laughs. The scorching, bright flames of the street corner lamps all seemed to burn me, mocking my mind as sweat trickled down my face.

Why was everything so dark all of a sudden? The lamposts, the windowstills, the insides of the closed up shops. Suddenly, I lost my footing and tripped on a stray pebble, scattering me onto the ground. My elbow burned like I've never felt a scrape before, and the gruff, masculine voice of a stranger caused me to give out a startled cry.

" In the need of assistance, madamoiselle? I'd be glad to help you." he growled, causing me to shiver.

Scared beyond my imagination, I shook my head in return and tried to back away from the disgusting man. He had a wild, unshaved beard and little black ugly eyes. He wore a wrinkled brown shirt with dirty tan slacks containing holes all in them. The man laughed insanely and grabbed my face, bringing it close up to his horrible black eyes once more. His breath smelled of alcohol and roughly he grabbed my wrist.

" Don't be shy, little one. Now, let's go and have a little fun together, ehh?"

Immediately, I struggled with all of my might to get out of his grasp. Screaming at the top of my lungs, he forcefully grabbed my other wrist and dragged me into a dark alleyway. I closed my eyes, praying to God for my life when suddenly the stranger let out a horrifying scream and let go of my wrists. My eyes widened in awe as my Angel of Music had him pinned to the floor. In his hand, he brandished a sword and held it threateningly to my attacker's chest.

"If you even speak to her again, you will not live to see the light of day again!" my Angel spat out, causing his victim to tremble violently.

"T--hhhh...ee P...hh.aaaa..nt...oo..mmm!" the stanger whispered and finally fainted in shock.

Gently, my angel took my hand and took me out of the alleyway. Thankful beyond relief, I looked up at him, watching the man who saved my life.

Feeling my glare, he looked back at me and gave a comforting smile.

"Got a little lost, _mon cher_?" he said to me.

So happy that he was with me, I smiled back at him.

"Thank you so much for saving me. I was so scared!" I told him.

Chuckling, he replied, "No problem. I happened to be in town. Come."

Whisking through the streets, he lead me around through a variety of twists and turns. Finally, he spoke once again to me.

"Close your eyes", he said.

Listening to my maestro, I closed my eyes, curious to where he was taking me.

"Ok, now you can open them."

Gasping in amazement, I found us to be in the most beautiful garden I had ever seen before. Surrounding us were roses of every color, eyeing us in full bloom. The delicate green grass tickled my feet, leaving behind a thin layer of moisture on my shoes. Tiny, green leaves poked out from all of the many bushes, adding a decorative fullness to the gardens. I inhaled the flowery aroma and felt the moonlight shining down on us.

"Do you like it?" my Angel whispered in my ear, startling me for a moment. Gently, I nodded.

"I'm glad. Come, we must attend to that cut on your elbow. It must be painful."

Pleasantly, he entwined his fingers in mine once more and lead me through the rows and rows of roses. We arrived shortly at a tiny, white bench with a fountain of water next to it. He signaled me to sit down and soon I was seated next to him. The cold air whirled past me once again and I shivered.

"Are you cold?"

I nodded and he took off his cloak. Tenderly, he placed it on my shoulders. Caring for my cut throughly, I admired how kind he was to me tonight. I wondered how he knew where I was. A question popped into my head all of a sudden.

"Angel, do you have a name?" I inquired.

"Erik, my name is Erik" he replied.

"May I call you that?"

He stopped for a second and laughed.

"Of course you can, Christine."

Once around, I admired my surroundings. The petals of the roses fell so perfectly in place with one another. I noted all of the colors I saw: pink, white, orange, purple, blue, yellow and even black roses. Then, one special rose caught my eye. A single red rose in full bloom, curling slightly at its ends and complete with a dark green stem.

"Do you like that rose, my dear?" Erik asked.

Embarrassed, I replied, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You can have it."

Smoothly, he got up off the small bench and approached the rose. With thought, he picked the rose off of the bush. Graciously, he picked off all of the thorns and soon came back.

"For you, my lady."

Still in wonder, I took the rose from his hand and politely thanked him.

" Roses have quite an interesting history. A rose is a shrub of the genus _Rosa_. There are hundreds of species of wild roses, which grow in the northern hemisphere. Most roses have five petals, although some rare kinds have four. For years, roses have respresented many different meanings. In Ancient Rome, a wild rose would be placed on doors where confidential matters were being discussed. The term "_sub rosa_" or "under the rose" means to keep a secret. They also symbolize beauty and love."

Christine blushed at this comment. He smirked and continued.

" Different colors represent different meanings. For example, the yellow rose respresents dying love and the blue rose represents mystery. The rose is the national flower for England and the United States."

" How did you find this garden?" Christine asked.

" I explored a bit around Paris and found it here accidentally when I was younger. Sometimes, I would come down here and just think for hours and hours."

**Erik's Point of View:**

Erik was truly enjoying this special night. He wished it never had to end. Admiring the gardens, he gazed at the red roses.

" Christine symbolizes the same things the rose does" he thought to himself.

He was awakened from his daze by a sudden slight weight on his shoulder. Confused, he glanced over his shoulder to view Christine, restfully breathing as she slept.

"_My little rose_.." he whispered, and placed his arm around her for the first time. In perfect bliss, he felt his eyelids get heavier and heavier.

Together they slept in the garden, dreaming of love and beauty, as she oh so serenely held his rose.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review :-)**


	12. Chapter 12

**I hope y'all enjoyed the last chapter. Chapter eleven was a lot of fun to write. Please, please, please review :-)**

**Erik's Point of View:**

_"Christine symbolizes the same things the rose does" I thought to myself._

_I was awakened from my daze by a sudden slight weight on my shoulder. Confused, I glanced over my shoulder to view Christine, restfully breathing as she slept._

_"My little rose.." I whispered, and placed my around her for the first time. In perfect bliss, I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier..._

_Christine now stood before me in a setting I had never seen before. Surrounding us were miles and miles of softened sand and the ocean spreading into endless horizons. A salty smell filled my head as an airy breeze twirled around the two of us. Immediately, I recognized the setting, we were back in Christine's childhood home!_

_Christine laughed happily and took my hand in hers. A light weight was placed onto my palm and the tiny golden seashell necklace from the antique shop drew in my eyes. A hearty voice filled my ears as I turned my head in suprise. Behind Christine was a pretty older woman with long, brown curly hair and porcelain skin, just like Christine. My jaw dropped and I adjusted my gaze from the locket to Christine. _

_"You can open it!" she whispered._

_Hesistantly, I pressed the little button on the seashell charm's smooth side and finally it split in two. On the left side was a joyful Maria Daae, complete with the same long, brown curly hair and porcelain skin. I looked up at the smiling woman once again._

_" Hello, Mrs. Daae. I'm Erik, Christine's friend." Erik said to Maria, feeling as nervous as a little boy going to school for the first time. _

_"Ahh, I've finally met the infamous Erik. You are considered quite the gentleman around here." Maria answered, as she whipped out a pocket watch from her pocket._

_"Oh my! I have to go check on supper. Nice to meet you, Erik." _

_Maria came up to me and gave me a warm hug._

_"Please, help smooth my daughter's shell" she whispered and ran off, leaving me in awe. _

_I thought of Mrs. Daae's words 'Help smooth my daughter's shell'. For the first time in years, somebody baffled me with their words. Breaking my deep thought was the texture of two small feminine hands, cautiously holding my free hand in hers. What did this all mean?_

_"Erik, you cared for me even when I was in my roughest hours. You were there when I cried in my bed at night, wishing for my parents again. You were there when nobody believed in me or my voice. Over everything, you were there when I needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on. You truly are my sea."_

_Suddenly, the light beachy colors spiraled around us and Christine's song of last night dug inside of my head. Slowly, my eyes opened._

I can't believe I fell asleep! Still in a bit of a flustered state of mind, I looked all around me and remember what had happened before in the garden. Still in slumber, Christine laid on my shoulder, faintly wearing a small peaceful smile across her beautiful face. I sighed, she was truly a site that left you breathless. Groggily, I slipped out my pocket watch and glanced at the time. It was two o'clock in the morning!

Sadly, I knew I had to take her back to the Operahouse now. The sun would rise again soon and more questions would arise if she did not return anyway. Shaking her in the gentlest way I could, I went to wake her up.

"Christine? I'm so sorry to wake you up, but we must return to the opera now. Here."

I offered her my hand and sleepily she accepted it. She looked so adorable when she woke up. Little by little, we got up off of the bench and began our journey back to the Opera House.

"Did I fall asleep on you?" she asked in a shy manner. I smiled and nodded. Embarrassed, her cheeks became red.

"I'm so sorry." she replied. Together, we both laughed.

We made our way through the many different streets of Paris very swiftly. As we stepped in unison, I innerwardly pondered about my dream. Did the dream mean something? Could all of that have been real? I mentally groaned, this was all so puzzling. Surely, this was quite a night.

Togehter we turned around a corner and finally the oh so familiar Opera Garnier came into our viewing. Gracefully, we scurried around the back and finally reached my hidden entrance. The key emerged from my pocket and in an instant the door unlocked.

"Stay close" I mumbled to Christine. I made out her nod, even though the underground tunnels were pitch black. After traveling through this very familiar maze, we finally reached her dormitories. For one last time, she turned around and gazed at me.

"Farewell, my dear" I sighed, very dissapointed this night had to end. One last thought came into my mind.

"Wait! Christine!" I said hastily as I ran up to her. I gave her my letter of explanation to give to Madame Giry.

"Give this to Madame Giry" I instructed as I slipped the envelope into her hands.

" Good night" I told her.

Quietly, she fluttered away, and gave me a wave in return.

Checking to make sure she made it back ok, I watched her leave. Then, I gave a glance once more at my pocket watch. The time read three thirty in the morning. I still had enough time! Not wasting any of this valuable time, I dashed away and once again entered the streets of Paris.

**Christine's Point of View:**

Still a bit drowsy, I finally arrived at Madame Giry's room. I felt very guilty for waking her up in the middle of the night, but the letter had to be delivered. Shyly, I knocked on the hard wooden door and almost immediately the door swung open.

"Christine! I was worried about you! Where have you been?" Madame exclaimed, opening the letter with her hands. She read through the letter and chuckled.

"Got a bit lost, my sweet? Please promise me you won't go strolling alone again?"

I nodded in return.

"Good! Now go and get some rest. You must be exhausted."

I thanked her very must and apologized for waking her up. Then, I left the corridor and continued back upstairs to the dormitories.

All of the other chorus girls were asleep, as I had expected. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I undressed and slipped into my pajamas. As I changed I realized I had forgotten to give back Erik's cloak. _Erik_... that name echoed through my mind as I recalled the events that had happened before. Madly intranced with thought, I laid down my bed and closed my eyes. Before I even realized it, I fell asleep.

**Erik's Point of View:**

I had very little time to spare before sun rise, so I moved through the city at a fairly fast pace. Every corner I turned had a small reminder of Christine and our special little trip.The sounds around us replayed in my head, followed by that heartfelt song she sang.

That dream I had still was on my mind. Was Christine's mother giving me a sign of some sort? I really didn't know what to do. Despite everything though, I had a strange sense of peace protecting Christine. If Christine's parents were alive today, would I live up to their expectations? Christine only deserved the best, a caring and tender soul who would love her for eternity. Oh dearest Christine...

Finally, I reached my destination. I took out a pin from my pocket and picked the shop's old metal door. With super cautious movements, I tiptoed way into the back passing the old, wooden shelves. With utmost care, I reached my hand up onto the top dusty shelf and brought down my desired object and placed it into my palms. Before leaving, I left the amount of francs this pretty little item was being sold for and bolted out of the door.

I looked up at the sky and started to get a bit frantic that I would run out of time. I hurried back through the streets and across the cobblestone roads. Finally, the Opera Garnier came into my viewing once more tonight. Through my back entrance, I raced through the darkened corridors and reached the lake where my home was. I pushed the oars with all of my strength and hopped off to fetch a piece of parchment paper. Quickly but neatly I wrote:

_Dearest Christine,_

_You remind me of so many wonderful things, my angel. Everyday I look into your bright blue eyes and see so much warmth. Your beautiful voice is so special to me, and in return for giving me one of your gorgeous gifts, I want to return something I know is very special to you. Truly, you are a unique shell of your own kind. The shining star of the sea. Promise me you'll always stay strong and never stop believing. _

_Love always,_

_Erik_

I pressed my letter to my lips and sealed it with a kiss. Then, I grabbed one more item from my desk and sprinted to my gondola. Finally, through the many different mazes beneath the opera, I reached the two way mirror leading to Christine's dressing room.

Gently, I slipped the screen door open and stepped inside of the dressing room. For one brief moment, I stopped and inhaled her lovely lavender scent which filled the room. Almost forgotting my reason for being here in the first place, I made my way over to the dresser. In an attractive arrangement, I finally left on its top the letter, my little suprise for her, and another single red rose with a black ribbon tied onto its stem.

Just in time, I closed the two way mirror shut and hurried back down to my lair.

_"Until we meet again, my love."_

**Christine's Point of View:**

Before long, the morning hours arrived and I was forced to start another day. Still a bit tired from last night, I rubbed my eyes and yawned.

"Mornin' sleepy head!" Meg exclaimed, startling me for a second. Meg loved to tease me.

" I assume you slept well then, Sleeping Beauty." I replied as we both laughed together. We chatted happily as we walked out of the dormitory and made our way down to our dressing rooms.

"See you in five, Chris?" she asked. I nodded cheerfully and waved goodbye.

I slipped the key to my dressing room out from beneath my shawl and inserted it into the keyhole. With a twist and turn, it opened up to show a room I had memories of for years. First, I skipped over to my wardrobe to pick out a dress to wear for breakfast. Then, I went over to my dresser to brush my hair. Sighing, I sat down on the dresser's comfy chair and reached my hand over to obtain my brush. I brushed my hair carefully, trying to make it neat and presentable when in shock I dropped the brush. On the dresser before me was a single red rose with a black ribbon on it, and sitting besides it was a sight I believed I'd never see again. Sitting calmly on my bureau was the small green velvet box from the antique shop.

In great excitement, I flipped open the top and gasped to find the little gold seashell necklace my mother gave me as a child. Tears formed in my eyes as I held it between my fingers. Oh thank you Angel, thank you! I was so estactic after receive such a gift of blessing that I barely realized a letter came with my present. Carefully, I opened it up and started to read the swirling script handwriting filling the page.

_Dearest Christine,_

_You remind me of so many wonderful things, my angel. Everyday I look into your bright blue eyes and see so much warmth. Your beautiful voice is so special to me, and in return for giving me one of your gorgeous gifts, I want to return something I know is very special to you. Truly, you are a unique shell of your own kind. The shining star of the sea. Promise me you'll always stay strong and never stop believing. _

_Love always,_

_Erik_

Grinning even wider, I laughed in glee and held the necklace close to my heart. Blissfully, I twirled around and around.

" I am such a lucky girl!" I thought, when all of a sudden I heard a pair of tiny footsteps entering the room.

"Angel!" I exclaimed as my little dog came running to my feet. I picked him up and gave him a big hug.

"Angel, can you believe my Angel of Music gave this back to me!" I told him as I showed him the necklace.

Still very excited, I twirled him around with me. Finally ending our continual circles, I stopped because we both felt dizzy.

"Want to eat some breakfast, Angel?" I asked. I giggled at the adorable face he was making and picked him up again.

"Ok then, let's go!".

Seconds later, we were both in the dining room, ready to enjoy the morning's meal. I scanned the tables and eventually saw Meg signaling me to sit next to her. I went over with Angel following me from behind.

The dining room was an interesting place really. It was a fairly large room filled with rows and rows of long, wooden tables. The walls were covered with a classic Victorian yellow wallpaper. Two huge Gothic stained glass windows were built on the back wall, accompanied by iron chandeliers scattered around the room.

The table you sat at depended on your social standing at the Opera. The lead singers, patrons, and teachers sat at the head table. I, being a simple chorus girl sat in the back with my dear friend Meg.

As I walked over to the table, I heard snickering all around me. People were staring at me like I had two heads. Uncomfortably, I quickened my walking as I heard whispering all around me.

_" That Christine Daae's always out somewhere at night!" _

_" Well, I'm sure she has to do something with the Vicomte during all of that time!"_

_" And maybe even in her spare time, she has some fun with her mysterious teacher!" _

Things could not be getting worse for me when suddenly La Carlotta emerged, throwing a tantrum as always.

" I hate my hair today! Tell my stylist she's fired! And my bath was way too hot! Arg why mus-"

Carlotta stopped yelling immediately as she set her eyes on me. Evilly, she smirked and calmly started to talk to me. The room fell as silent as a pin.

"Well, bonjour Madamoiselle Daae! How is our lovely _chorus girl_?" she greeted sarcastically. She averted her icy gaze down to the floor. Now, she was staring at Angel. Her evil grin widened even more.

"A dog! Why is a dog permitted to be in this dining room? I, La Carlotta, am highly allergic to these... vile creatures." she exclaimed, as she started giving everyone phony sneezes. Suddenly, crocodiles tears filled her eyes as she threw a fit of hysteria.

"Christine Daae! You must be responsible for this! You knew I was allergic! You did! I hate you... you little jealous whiny...". She emphasized the next word.

"Whore!"

Hot tears began to form in my eyes, and in moments, I picked Angel up off the floor and ran out of the room.

**Meg's Point of View:**

My knuckles grew white as I saw Christine run out of the room after Carlotta's horrible bullying. I knew that she was insanely jealous of how great Christine did when she was La Diva's understudy, but this was out of line. I had to support my friend.

Breaking the silence, I stood out from my seat. The shocked expressions on the people present in the room now were passed on to me. Angrily, I hurried out of the room to find my best friend. But before I left, I wanted to say one thing.

"I would be careful if I were you, La Carlotta, because one day those dirty words of yours may come back to haunt you." I hollered out, and finally I left the room.

Worried, I called out Christine's name and searched madly around for her. Where could she be? For a moment, I thought of places she might go, her sanctuaries. An immediate location entered my mind, the chapel.

I traveled throughout the hallways and the stage and finally made my way down the hard, concrete steps leading to the chapel. Slowly, the soft sobs of my friend entered my ears. Around the corner I found her on the windowstill, crying her eyes out and holding her dearest dog for life.

"Christine?" I said gently, as if we were children all over again. I softly embraced her and let her let out her emotions. Soon, I spoke up.

"Christine, don't let Carlotta get to you. She's nothing but a stuck-up diva. Nobody else likes her anyway. The only reason some are nice to her is because they are scared."

Christine looked up at me sorrowfully with the too familiar tear stained face I had seen on her so much as kids. Why did Carlotta have to be so mean? Why couldn't she just mind her own business? She knows Christine is sensitive. Couldn't she just leave all alone? But of course not! She had to continue to be the terrible bully she always was. With Christine's angelic voice and lovely personality, she had to try and crush her. Attack her like a green eyed monster...

" Carlotta's insanely jealous of you, Chris. She knows you not only have a voice a thousand times better than hers but you also have a fantastic personality to match it. You're sweet, and that is why people love you so much!"

Christine laughed and started to smile. I was glad that I could help her a little bit.

"You're an amazing friend, Meg." she told me, and in return we gave eachother a heartfelt hug.

"Hey, that's what friends are for!"

Suddenly, Christine's stomach gave out a huge growl and once again we laughed.

"I'll bring down some food for us, so we can have a nice, quiet breakfast." I said and then looked down at Angel.

"Don't worry, I won't forget you Angel!"

The happy little dog barked and for the moment I bid farewell.

**Erik's Point of View:**

Inwardly, I cursed at that vulgar woman Carlotta. How dare she insult my Christine! I wanted her to pay for what she did so badly! The problem was, there wasn't much I could do as a dog and in reality, a nasty bite on her ankle would just give Christine more grief from the terrible diva.

I tried to comfort her by licking her cheek and sitting on her lap. At this time, being a dog was so inconvenient. She needed something more.

My wishes were granted and minutes later Little Giry dashed in. I was so grateful for her presence!

"Christine, don't let Carlotta get to you. She's nothing but a stuck-up diva. Nobody else likes her anyway. The only reason some are nice to her is because they are scared." Little Giry said.

What a great friend Little Giry was. Her words to Christine were so kind and she was so caring. Little Giry continued on, saying even more words of comfort to Christine.

"Carlotta's insanely jealous of you, Chris. She knows you not only have a voice a thousand times better than hers but you also have a fantastic personality to match it. You're sweet, and that is why people love you so much!"

My angel laughed and started to smile. I was so relieved!

" Thank you so much, Little Giry, thank you!", I repeated in my head as the two good friends hugged one more time.

I learned something very interesting today. Being famous or being successful is nice, but those are not the most special accomplishments in one's life. Having somebody who will stick up for you and protect you and love you is the greatest gift any person could receive in their entire life. Nothing in the world could make a person happier than knowing somebody cares about you and will be on your side no matter what. That's the kind of feeling Christine had with Meg, and that's the kind of feeling I had with Christine.

I guess Little Giry's words were true.

_"That's what friends are for!"_

**Everybody's friends again! Yay lol. Please, please, please, please review! I only got one review on the last chapter and I was very sad. cries**

**So yeah... I hope you liked the chapter :-) Enjoy your weekend!**


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